Zxhvavy  of t:ht  t:heolo0ical  ^tmimvy 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 
PRESENTED  BY 

the  Estate  of 
the  Rev.  George  G.  Smith 

J  C  7  I 
\90l 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Arcliive 
in  2015 


littps://arcliive.org/details/republicstatesmaOOplat_0 


ARISTOTLE  AND  PLATO 


From  the  original  painting  —  '-'•The  School  of  Athens,''^  by  Raphael 
—  in  the  Vatican. 


Cop  V  RIGHT,  1901, 

B  Y 

.WALTER  DUNNE, 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Aristotle  and  Plato  Frontispiece 

From  the  original  painting — « School  of  Athens,^  by  Ra- 
phael—  in  the  Vatican. 

The  School  of  Athens  351 

From  the  original  painting  by  Raphael,  in  the  Vatican. 

(V) 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 

TO  THE  REPUBLIC 


HE  mere  fact  that  a  publisher  should  venture  at  this 


day  to  place  before  the  public  a  new  edition  of  a 


work  written  twenty-three  centuries  ago  ought  to 
be  itself  a  sufficient  introduction.  Words  can  scarcely 
add  to  the  eloquence  of  that  fact.  So  ancient  a  work, 
however,  might  be  republished  simply  as  an  historical 
document  or  curiosity,  to  show  what  was  thought  and 
written  and  taught  long  ages  ago,  in  order  that  the  con- 
trast between  those  times  and  our  own,  and  the  progress 
made  in  the  intellectual  development  of  humanity  might 
be  more  manifest.  Or,  again,  and  still  from  an  historical 
motive,  it  might  be  desirable  and  profitable  to  repro- 
duce a  work  of  antiquity  which  stands  as  the  foundation 
of  some  particular  science  or  branch  of  knowledge,  but 
which  is  no  longer  of  any  other  importance  or  value, 
even  in  its  own  field,  than  is  the  seed  which  long  years 
ago  fell  into  the  ground  and  died  that  the  great  fruit- 
bearing  tree  which  our  eyes  now  behold  might  grow 
and  live.  What  is  remarkable  in  the  present  instance 
is  that  "  The  Republic  "  of  Plato  can  be  put  forth  in  a  new 
edition  to-day,  not  as  a  mere  historical  monument  or 
document,  not  as  a  curiosity  of  barbarism  or  of  infant 
civilization,  not  as  the  outgrown  beginning  of  some  line 
of  intellectual  development,  but  as  a  living,  teaching 
reality,  fitted  to  awaken  in  men's  minds  the  highest 
thoughts  and  the  noblest  ideals,  to  direct  men's  conduct 
in  the  paths  of  justice  and  righteousness,  to  lead  human 
civilization  onward  and  upward  to  heights  to  which, 
even  after  twenty-three  hundred  years  from  the  time 
when  Plato  first  wrote  this  work,  it  has  not  yet  reached. 


(vii) 


viii 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


He  who  will  read  these  dialogues  for  the  first  time  will 
wonder  whether  he  be  not  dreaming,  and  will  marvel  at 
their  easy  application  to  the  conditions  amid  which  the 
twentieth  Christian  century  begins  its  course.  He  who 
will  ponder  over  them  for  the  hundredth  time  will  see 
deeper  down  into  the  abyss  of  their  universal  wisdom 
and  will  find  new  beauties  to  hold  him  entranced. 

The  selection  of  "  The  Republic  "  as  the  work  of  Plato  to 
be  republished  is  natural  and  prudent.  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  said  to  have  been  his  own  favorite  among 
all  his  productions ;  and  well  may  this  be  true.  The 
Republic**  may  be  considered  as  the  compendium  of  all 
Plato's  teaching  and  philosophy.  It  constitutes,  as  it 
were,  the  climax  toward  which  all  of  his  study  and  work 
had  tended,  and  contains  the  fruit  of  it  all.  Professedly 
it  undertakes  simply  to  portray  what  Plato  conceived  as 
an  ideal  civic  society.  Such  a  scope  would,  in  the 
modern  method  of  classification,  restrict  the  writer  to 
the  treatment  of  the  relations  and  obligations  of  one 
man  to  another  and  to  all  others  with  whom  he  lives  in 
contact.  But,  by  the  ingenious  use  of  the  similitude 
which  may  be  legitimately  found  between  the  organism 
uniting  the  many  parts  of  the  human  composite  into 
one  individual  man  and  that  organism  by  which  a  mul- 
titude of  men  is  reduced  to  one  orderly  whole,  which 
may  be  called  a  society,  or  a  state,  or  a  nation,  or  a 
republic,  Plato  succeeds  in  teaching  the  duties  which  are 
incumbent  on  man  for  the  perfection  and  well-being  of 
his  personal  self,  as  well  as  those  which  he  owes  to  his 
fellow  man  in  his  intercourse  with  him.  Thus,  to  begin 
with,  **  The  Republic  *  may  be  said  to  constitute  a  com- 
plete treatise  on  the  ethics  of  the  individual  and  of  society, 
and  to  contain  Plato's  entire  doctrine  concerning  individ- 
ual and  social  morality.  Such  a  result  could  not  have 
been  accomplished  without  manifesting  more  or  less 
fully  the  author's  views  concerning  psychological  and 
metaphysical  matters,  since  ethical  doctrines  are  invari- 
ably the  consequences  of  such  views.  And  so,  indeed, 
in  this  work  we  find  the  metaphysics  and  psychology  of 
Plato  clearly  indicated.  "  Music  '*  as  it  was  called,  em- 
bracing belles-lettres,  poetry  and  rhetoric,  and  mathe- 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


matics  are  touched  upon  as  auxiliaries  in  the  great  work 
of  civic  progress  and  perfection.  The  domain  of  the 
human  knowledge  is  finally  covered  by  the  addition  in 
the  last  dialogue  of  what  may  be  justly  considered  theo- 
logical doctrine.  The  result  is  that  he  who  studies  well 
The  Republic  puts  himself  in  possession  of  Plato's  entire 
philosophy.  Deeper  and  fuller  knowledge  of  the  details 
of  that  philosophy  will  be  obtained  from  his  other  works, 
and  a  most  desirable  effect  of  the  study  of  The  Republic  * 
must  be  the  sharpening  of  the  appetite  to  know  more  of 
those  details. 

The  plan  of  the  work  is  simple,  clear,  and  logical;  and 
the  method  is  attractive.  There  are  ten  dialogues,  the 
first  seven  of  which  are  devoted  to  the  development  of 
Plato's  idea  of  a  state.  Since,  however,  justice  is  for 
him  the  basic  and  riiTing  civic  virtue,  he  devotes  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  first  two  dialogues  to  establishing 
clearly  his  idea  of  the  meaning  of  that  virtue,  its  re- 
quirements and  its  violations.  The  other  five  dialogues 
of  this  part  are  given  to  the  discussion  of  the  peculiar 
characteristics  with  which  he  would  have  the  various 
classes  of  people  who  make  up  his  republic  endowed,  and 
of  the  special  training  by  which  such  characteristics  may 
be  developed.  No  philosopher  more  than  Plato  ever 
appreciated  the  marvelous  phenomenon  of  unified  multi- 
plicity so  common  in  the  universe.  His  whole  Philos- 
ophy may  be  considered  as  a  study  of  that  phenomenon 
and  a  search  for  its  tr^ie  explanation.  He  discovered 
that  explanation  in  the  orderly  subjection  of  constituent 
parts  to  one  governing  head,  pre-eminent  in  knowledge, 
power,  and  dignity.  This  was  his  theory  of  the  individual 
man,  and  this  was  the  foundation  of  his  plan  for  an 
ideal  republic.  The  necessity  of  authority  in  society 
was  not  only  not  questioned  by  him,  but  the  first  and 
most  important  class  of  people  in  his  republic,  the  class 
in  whose  selection  and  for  whose  special  training  the 
most  constant  and  scrupulous  care  must  be  exercised,  is 
the  ruling  or  governing  class  —  the  magistrates.  It  is  to 
them  that  he  turns  his  first  attention,  and  what  he  says 
of  them  may  well  be  made  the  subject  of  perpetual 
meditation  by  all  rulers  so  long  as  civil  society  shall 


X 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


exist.  Happy,  indeed,  would  be  the  state  whose  magis- 
trates should  be  such  men  as  he  describes  —  wise  with 
all  possible  knowledge;  just  beyond  all  chance  of  cor- 
ruption, filled  with  zeal  for  the  common  weal  alone;  so 
profoundly  impressed  by  the  responsibility  of  governing 
that  the  dignity  must  seek  them,  never  they  the  dignity; 
so  upright  and  righteous  that  they  themselves,  their 
lives  and  their  actions,  might  be  the  living  laws  of  the 
community  which  should  need  no  other  laws.  In  our 
own  day  and  country,  where  those  who  govern  are  called 
to  their  office,  theoretically  at  least,  by  the  people,  this 
part  of  Plato's  work  merits  continual  study  by  every 
citizen.  Human  wisdom  in  the  progress  of  twenty-three 
centuries  of  civilization  has  taught  us  nothing  higher, 
better,  or  nobler;  and  almost  every  word  which  Plato 
says  on  this  subject  is  applicable  to  our  own  actual  con- 
ditions. 

Next  to  the  magistrates  Plato  attaches  importance  to 
the  soldiers  of  his  republic,  and  he  would  have  the 
utmost  care  bestowed  on  their  training  that  they  may  be 
intelligent,  unselfish,  patriotic,  virtuous,  and  brave.  It 
must  not  be  imagined  from  this  that  Plato  was  a  pro- 
moter of  militarism,  as  it  is  called.  All  that  is  meant  by 
that  term  in  its  present-day  use  is  unequivocally  con- 
demned by  him.  He  distinctly  warns  against  the  use  of 
an  army  for  purposes  of  conquest,  and  condemns  in 
strong  language  anything  that  could  tend  to  the  opres- 
sion  of  the  people  by  the  military.  He  is  strong  in  his 
assertion  that  the  greatness  of  a  state  is  not  to  be 
measured  by  the  vastness  of  its  territorial  possessions 
nor  by  the  number  of  its  tributary  or  subject  peoples; 
but  rather  by  its  own  internal  unity  and  the  peace  and 
contentment  and  well-being  of  its  citizens.  If,  then, 
Plato  puts  his  soldiers  next  to  his  rulers  in  importance, 
it  is  because,  consistently  with  his  entire  philosophical 
system,  he  realizes  that  every  composite  entity  must  be 
equipped  with  two  faculties  for  the  preservation  of  its 
existence  —  first  and  most  necessary,  a  faculty  by  which 
it  maintains  the  reasonable  subordination  of  its  constituent 
parts  and  guides  their  several  activities  to  the  perfection 
of  one  harmonious  operation;  and,  second,  a  faculty  to 


SPFXIAL  INTRODUCTION 


xi 


ward  off  dang'crs  which  may  threaten  its  existence  from 
without.  Plato's  soldiers  are  neither  plunderers  nor  ty- 
rants. They  are  rather  brave,  intrepid  guards  and  pro- 
tectors of  their  coimtry's  integrity  and  honor.  It  is  in 
this  connection,  while  treating  of  the  training  necessary 
to  produce  such  soldiers,  that  Plato  is  accused  of  an  un- 
expected condemnation  of  the  poets,  whom  it  is  said 
he  would  banish  from  his  republic.  I  say  an  unex- 
pected condemnation,  for  it  is  hard  to  believe  that 
Plato,  surely  an  idealist  and  therefore  somewhat  of  a 
poet  himself  and  a  cultured  Greek,  which  meant  nec- 
essarily an  admirer  and  a  lover  of  the  beautiful  in 
all  its  manifestations,  should  name  the  poets  as  a  class 
unworthy  of  respect  and  dangerous  to  the  welfare  of 
his  state.  But  if  Plato's  words  be  carefully  studied,  I 
think  that  it  will  become  evident  that  he  is  unjustly  ac- 
cused of  a  wholesale  attack  on  poets  or  of  requiring 
their  universal  banishment.  It  is  for  two  clearly  defined 
offenses  that  he  would  drive  them  out:  first,  for  such 
unwarranted  exaggeration  as  could  not  be  excused  even 
by  poetic  license  —  which  he  is  ready  to  admit  within 
reasonable  limits  —  exaggeration  which  amounts  to  lying 
pure  and  simple ;  and,  second,  for  the  voluptuous  retailing 
of  the  licentious  lives  and  conduct  of  gods  and  heroes. 
The  purveying  of  literature  of  such  a  character  Plato 
considered  harmful  to  the  morals  not  only  of  his  soldiers 
but  of  all  citizens,  and  who  shall  say  he  was  too  rigid  ? 
Poets  who  were  innocent  of  these  offenses  might  remain 
unmolested  in  his  republic.  To  understand  his  position 
more  clearly  and  to  see  with  what  wisdom  and  desirable 
results  his  discrimination  might  well  be  applied  to  the 
conditions  of  the  present  day,  it  must  be  remembered 
that  the  poets  of  his  time  practically  filled  the  place  and 
did  the  work  of  our  daily  papers.  It  was  in  the  songs  of 
the  poets  that  the  news  of  public  events  was  spread 
through  the  village,  town,  city,  and  country.  The  battles 
fought,  the  victories  won,  the  result  of  the  games,  the 
doings  of  the  great  and  powerful,  the  change  of  rulers, 
alliances  formed  or  broken,  all  these  things  the  poets 
made  the  subject  of  their  song,  which,  wandering  through 
city  street  and  country  road,  they  poured  mto  the  listen- 


xii 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


ing  ears  of  the  multitude.  Recall  then  the  kinds  of 
poems  to  which  Plato  takes  exception  and  which  he  would 
not  have  recited  to  his  people  whom  he  would  keep 
truthful,  reverent,  and  virtuous,  and  then  think  whether 
or  not  even  to-day  an  edict  of  b?.nishinent  might  be  timely 
and  wise.  The  poems  which  Plato  condemns  were  the 
sensational  journals  of  his  time,  and  who  does  not  wish 
that  the  evils  of  such  journalism  might  be  removed  even 
were  banishment  necessary  ? 

The  dialogues  up  to  and  including  the  seventh  continue 
the  discussion  of  the  duties  of  citizens  of  various  classes 
in  the  republic  and  of  the  manner  in  which  they  should 
be  made  to  understand  those  duties  and  educated  to  meet 
and  fulfill  them.  Here  will  be  found  a  perfect  treasure- 
house  from  which  ideas  of  practical  value  in  our  own 
times  may  be  drawn.  Many  errors  might  be  corrected 
and  many  deficiencies  supplied  in  our  own  system  of 
educating  the  people  by  following  the  suggestions  made 
by  Plato.  I  doubt  whether  in  any  institution  for  the 
training  of  the  young  in  this  country,  whether  conducted 
under  public  or  private  auspices  and  direction,  so  high 
an  ideal  of  virtue  and  integrity  is  held  before  the  future 
citizens  of  the  nation  as  Plato  would  have  kept  constantly 
before  the  minds  of  his  citizens.  I  doubt  whether  any 
such  care  be  exercised  to-day  to  train  our  young  people 
to  a  realization  of  their  responsibilities  and  obligations, 
and  to  develop  in  them  the  strength  to  fulfill  them  as 
Plato  would  have  exercised.  We  may  smile  at  some  of 
the  methods  suggested,  which  probably  would  be  un- 
fitted to  present  conditions.  But  in  smiling  at  these,  we 
ought  not  to  overlook  the  great  mass  of  precepts  which 
are  still  apt  and  useful.  It  may  be  questioned  whether 
we  have  any  real  right  to  smile  even  at  the  exaggerated 
importance  which  Plato  seems  to  attach  to  matters  of 
apparently  small  moment.  It  is  strange  that  the  sugges- 
tion of  Plato  regarding  the  training  of  the  young  which 
is  the  latest  to  have  been  adopted  in  modern  methods  is 
one  from  among  those  of  least  consequence.  It  was  not 
many  months  ago  that  the  Board  of  Education  in  one  of 
our  largest  cities  adopted  a  method  of  training  the  pupils 
of  the  schools  to  ambidexterity.     In  the  fifth  dialogue 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


xiii 


Plato  explains  the  utility  and  the  possibility  of  such 
training  and  shows  how  it  can  be  accomplished.  It  might 
well  be  wished  that  some  more  important  idea  had  been 
selected  and  adopted.  A  much  more  serious  care  for 
the  education  of  our  young  would  have  been  exhibited 
by  turning  to  the  fourth  dialogue  and  drawing  inspira- 
tion from  it.  There  would  have  been  found  most  valuable 
instruction  for  any  Board  of  Education.  The  young 
should  be  taught  thoroughly  the  virtues  of  fortitude, 
temperance,  and  justice;  they  should  be  made  to  see 
that  virtue  means  the  health  and  depravity  the  disease 
of  the  individual  and  of  the  community;  their  physical 
constitutions  should  be  cared  for  and  their  bodily  health 
promoted  by  reasonable  recreation. 

It  is  at  the  beginning  of  this  fourth  dialogue  that 
Plato  warns  against  the  accumulation  of  great  wealth  by 
individuals.  What  he  says  is  of  profound  importance 
and  well  deserves  attention  in  these  times  of  ours.  Con- 
vinced that  the  perfection  of  a  state  is  to  be  measured 
first  of  all  by  its  internal  unity,  he  points  out  the  dan- 
ger of  division  when  there  is  found  one  class  of  citizens 
possessed  of  great  wealth  and  another  sunk  in  extreme 
poverty.  The  wealthy  are  bound  to  despise  and  oppress 
the  poor,  and  the  poor  are  bound  to  hate  and  envy  the 
rich;  and  immediately  you  have  two  communities  and 
not  one.  Extreme  wealth  and  extreme  poverty  are  the 
sources  of  crime,  the  one  giving  rise  to  luxurious  and 
riotous  living  and  the  other  to  rapine  and  violence.  He 
would  have  all  his  citizens  comfortably  provided  with 
means,  none  superfluously  rich  and  none  wretchedly  poor. 
With  thoughts  like  these  all  must  agree,  and  it  could 
do  no  harm  even  in  this  twentieth  century  to  teach  our 
youth  that  the  accumulation  of  wealth  is  far  from  the 
highest  object  which  a  man  can  set  for  his  attain- 
ment, that  the  richest  man  is  not  the  best  man,  that 
the  true  citizen,  the  one  who  is  of  most  real  value  to 
the  state,  is  not  he  who  has  devoted  his  energies  to 
the  amassing  of  an  enormous  fortune  for  his  own  self- 
ish possession,  but  he  who  gives  his  life  and  his  highest 
and  best  endeavors  to  the  promotion  of  the  common 
good  of  all. 


xiv 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Having  prepared  the  way  by  this  reference  to  the  dan- 
ger to  the  state  from  the  uneqtial  distribution  of  riches 
among  the  citizens,  in  the  next  dialogue  Plato  puts  forth 
his  communistic  theories  in  all  their  extremity.  Of  course, 
if  his  words  are  to  be  taken  literally,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  follow  him  with  approbation  to  the  lengths  to 
which  he  goes.  He  would  have  all  things  possessed  in 
common.  He  would  have  it  impossible  for  any  man  to 
call  anything  his  own.  Not  only  property,  but  even 
women  and  children,  should  be  held  in  common.  No 
man  should  have  a  wife  of  his  own.  Parents  should 
not  know  their  own  children  and  children  should  not 
know  their  own  parents.  When  born  children  should 
be  taken  in  charge  at  once  by  the  state  which  should 
attend  to  their  nourishment  and  education.  The  strong 
and  healthy  and  untainted  by  disease  or  deformity 
should  be  carefully  nurtured  and  trained  to  become  good 
and  useful  citizens;  while  the  unsound,  the  unhealthy, 
the  diseased,  and  deformed  should  be  segregated  and  left 
practically  to  perish.  This  doctrine  of  the  fifth  dialogue, 
if  understood  as  literally  serious,  is  the  one  dark  spot  in 
the  whole  work.  But  who  knows  whether  Plato  ever  in- 
tended it  as  a  calm  and  serious  exposition  of  his  true 
ideas  ?  Look  for  a  moment  at  the  motive  he  had  for 
writing  it.  I  have  repeated  that  if  Plato  was  thoroughly 
persuaded  of  any  one  necessity  in  the  building  of  his 
republic,  it  was  the  necessity  of  unity.  He  knew,  as 
we  know  also,  that  inequality  of  any  kind  is  a  menace  to 
unity. 

He  was  a  keen  observer  of  the  conditions  of  his  own 
times  and  a  profound  student  of  those  of  other  times. 
He  saw  what  we  see  to-day  twenty-three  centuries  later, 
and  what  we  know  that  all  observers  have  seen  in  the 
meantime  —  that  distinctions  of  wealth  and  of  birth  are 
the  sources  of  inequality.  Who  can  doubt  but  that  count- 
less and  serious  evils  have  always  befallen  society  be- 
cause of  the  pretentions  of  the  wealthy  or  of  the  sons  of 
their  fathers.  The  general  good  means  nothing  to  the 
man  bent  on  accumulating  riches  or  to  him  who  is  all 
intent  on  maintaining  the  prestige  of  his  family.  Had 
Plato  gone  on  living  to  the  present  day,  he  might  have 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


XV 


gathered  a  fund  of  examples  to  prove  that  the  evils  aris- 
ing from  these  two  sources  alone  have  destroyed  many 
and  many  a  state  and  nation.  For  him,  then,  these  were 
the  extremcst  evils.  Is  it  not  therefore  just  possible  that, 
not  because  he  would  seriously  advocate  their  application, 
but  simply  in  order  to  impress  as  strongly  as  possible  on 
the  minds  of  his  pupils  the  magnitude  of  those  evils,  he 
let  his  indignant  imtigination  run  riot  and  described  the 
most  extreme  remedies  he  could  devise  ?  Plato  was 
handling  a  problem  the  practical  solution  of  which  has 
not  been  reached  even  yet  —  the  combat  between  the 
selfishness  of  the  individual  and  the  altruism  of  the  citi- 
zen. He  realized  one  great  truth  —  that  the  first  step  in 
the  solution  of  that  problem  must  be  a  realization  of  the 
civic  equality  of  all  men  considered  as  members  of  so- 
ciety. May  it  not  be  that  his  idea  was  to  present  in 
even  a  violent  manner  a  means  of  securing  such  equal- 
ity, without  for  a  moment  believing  that  the  means  he 
described  could  be  adopted  in  practice  ?  But  if  we  wish 
to  hold  him  responsible  for  the  literal  meaning  of  his 
words,  what  is  the  worst  we  can  say  ?  Simply  that  he, 
like  every  one  who  has  attempted  the  solution  of  the 
problem  by  human  means  since  his  time  down  to  our  own, 
failed.  In  failing  he  but  gave  an  example  of  the  truth 
of  his  own  doctrine,  that  for  the  absolutely  perfect  guid- 
ance of  men  in  their  civic  obligations  there  is  needed  a 
teacher  who  shall  have  learned  the  truth  from  God. 
Four  hundred  years  after  Plato  there  came  such  a  teacher 
and  He  too  undertook  the  solution  of  the  problem.  He 
did  it  without  interfering  in  the  least  with  the  sanctity 
or  the  individuality  of  the  family.  He  too  taught  the 
necessity  of  equality  among  men  and  showed  how  this 
equality  could  be  realized.  He  too  taught  us  to  call  no 
man  Father  since  there  is  one  God  and  Father  of  us  all 
from  whom  all  paternity  is  derived.  He  showed  us  that 
God  is  more  truly  the  father  of  every  one  of  us  than  is 
the  man  who  generated  us,  and  that  by  this  divine  pa- 
ternity all  men  are  more  truly  brothers  than  are  those 
who  proceed  from  the  one  mother's  womb.  He  taught 
us  that  in  the  eyes  of  this  divine  Father  there  is  and 


xvi 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


can  be  no  distinction  of  persons,  and  that  no  greater 
crime  can  be  committed  against  the  divine  paternal 
goodness  than  by  treating  another  of  His  sons  as  though 
he  were  not  our  true  brother.  If  we  must  condemn 
Plato  for  this  exaggerated  and  impossible  failure  to  solve 
the  great  problem,  we  must  condemn  ourselves  much 
more  severely  for  failing  to  solve  it  practically  after  we 
have  been  so  well  taught  how  to  solve  it.  The  other 
part  of  the  same  problem  —  what  is  to  be  done  to  prevent 
the  propagation  of  physical  disease  and  abnormality  ?  — 
still  troubles  the  minds  of  our  sociologists,  as  is  shown 
by  the  fact  that,  within  this  very  year,  a  project  was 
introduced  in  one  of  our  State  legislatures  restricting 
individual  liberty  in  the  contracting  of  marriages  by  re- 
quiring that  each  of  the  parties  should  be  provided  with 
a  physician's  certificate  guaranteeing  that  he  or  she  is 
free  from  all  disease  that  may  be  hereditary,  from  insan- 
ity, and  from  every  abnormality  which  might  be  propa- 
gated. So  long  as  practical  solutions  so  impossible,  so 
unreasonable,  so  unjust  as  that  are  seriously  proposed 
and  considered,  our  condemnation  of  Plato's  scheme  must 
at  least  be  tempered  with  a  confession  of  our  own  im- 
potence. 

After  building  up  his  "  Republic  in  the  first  seven 
dialogues,  and  developing  a  form  of  government  in  which 
the  wisest  and  best,  who  might  be  styled  the  Optimates, 
shall  rule  the  others  and  guide  them  on  the  true  road 
to  civic  happiness,  he  shov/s  in  the  eighth  and  ninth 
dialogues  how  states  may  be  defective  in  comparison 
with  his,  and,  consequently,  of  a  lower  degree  of  perfec- 
tion. 

Finally,  in  the  last  dialogue,  he  adds  some  considera- 
tions concerning  matters  of  supreme  importance  to  all 
men  who  would  live  high,  noble,  ideal  lives  both  as 
individuals  and  as  citizens,  and  thus  brings  his  work  to 
a  close. 

Such  is  the  plan.  The  method,  in  which  Socrates  is 
made  the  teacher  and  conveys  his  doctrine  by  means 
of  dialogue,  is,  as  I  have  said,  attractive  and  interest- 
ing. 


SPECIAL  INTRODUCTION 


xvii 


It  is  in  harmony  with  the  idea  that  true  education 
consists  in  the  drawing  out  and  developing  of  what  is  in 
the  pupil,  rather  than  in  cramming  into  him  a  mass  of 
material  from  without.  It  implies  too  that  the  teacher 
himself,  if  he  would  be  a  true  teacher,  must  remain 
ever  and  always  ready  to  learn.  From  this  method 
pedagogy  of  our  own  time  might  learn  very  valuable 
lessons.  It  is  very  probable  indeed  that  our  youth  to-day 
is  not  being  so  truly  and  so  well  educated  as  was  the 
youth  in  the  schools  of  Socrates,  of  Plato,  and  of  Aristotle. 
This  method,  the  peripatetic,  and  the  scholastic  method 
of  disputation  are  discarded  and  smiled  at  nowadays  as 
primitive  and  antiquated,  and  are  accused  of  opening 
the  way  to  quibbling  over  unimportant  details.  Any 
good  thing  may  be  abused.  But  I  doubt  if  any  of  these 
methods,  even  in  its  most  degenerate  stage,  could  be 
worse  than  the  actual  didactic  method  generally  preva- 
lent, especially  in  our  own  country. 

One  word  more  in  closing.  I  would  not  leave  the 
impression  that  I  think  that  in  this  or  in  any  or  all  of 
his  works  Plato  has  said  the  last  word  that  can  be  said 
on  any  subject.  The  human  intellect  in  its  never  ending 
search  for  infinite  truth  must  go  on,  generation  after 
generation,  finding  more  and  more  of  its  object.  In 
more  ways  than  one,  and  along  more  than  one  line  of 
human  knowledge  Plato  has  been  left  twenty-three 
centuries  behind.  In  his  own  sjjecial  realm  of  transcen- 
dental truth  he  reached  only  its  border-land;  and  what 
he  saw  was  indistinct  and  vague  and  unreal  because  of 
its  very  dazzling  brightness  —  a  phenomenon  which  he 
himself  so  beautifully  describes  in  his  similitude  of  the 
man  taken  suddenly  from  the  dark  cave  and  brought 
into  the  presence  of  the  most  brilliant  light.  Those 
wonderful  things  which  he  felt  must  be  visible  to  the 
intellect  somewhere  and  somehow  it  required  Another  to 
make  known  to  men.  Some  of  the  ^*  invisible  things  of 
God  are  seen  by  the  understanding  of  those  things 
which  are  made,"  but  only  directly  from  the  lips  of  God 
can  man  learn  all  that  Plato  was  striving  to  know.  But 
this  much  seems  true.     Men  from  the  beginning  have 


xviii  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 

been  building  their  Republics.  Observing  and  thinking 
men  from  the  beginning  have  seen  that  the  real  structure 
has  ever  fallen  short  of  the  ideal.  Plato's  ideal  republic 
is  as  worthy  now  of  consideration,  of  study,  and  even  of 
imitation  as  are  the  **  Utopias  of  four  centuries  ago  or 
the  "  Altrurias  "  of  to-day. 


THE  REPUBLIC 


(xix) 


PART  I.— THE  REPUBLIC 


CONTENTS 


PAOB 

General  Introduction. 

Part  I.  On  the  Platonic  Philosophy  Generally  ...  i 
Part  II.    Plato's  Views  on  Ethics  and  Politics  —  General 

Sketch  of  the  Subject  Matter  of  the  Republic      .     .  i6 

The  Republic  ( in  Ten  Books). 

Book       1   27 

Book      II   61 

Book     III   92 

Book     IV     129 

Book       V   161 

Book        VI   igg 

Book    VII   233 

Book  VIII   265 

Book      IX   2g5 

Book       X   320 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


PART  I. 

ON  THE  PLATONIC  PHILOSOPHY  GENERALLY. 


Almost  contemporaneously  among  the  learned  of  Europe, 
there  has  arisen  a  tendency  to  study  the  sublime,  spirit- 
ual philosophy  of  Plato,  in  preference  to  the  cold  ma- 
terialism of  Aristotle,  on  which  have  been  erected  so 
many  of  the  systems  that  have  risen  and  had  their  day 
in  our  literary  world.  That  this  has  not  hitherto  been 
the  case,  and  that  Platonism  (which,  in  its  spiritualizing 
and  purifying  tendency,  may  be  deemed  to  approach 
Christianity)  has  not  hitherto  been  exalted  to  its  true 
dignity  and  station  in  metaphysical  history,  is  chiefly 
attributable  to  the  absurd  mysticism  and  fanatical  ex- 
travagances which  the  New  Platonists  introduced  in  their 
interpretations,  and  which  have  too  frequently  been  re- 
garded as  true  expositions  of  the  great  philosopher,  by 
modern  writers  either  too  lazy  or  too  ignorant  to  go  and 
drink  the  clear  waters  at  the  fountain-head.  Plato  him- 
self wrote  wonderfully  little  that  cannot  be  compre- 
hended by  a  reflective  mind;  and  the  more  his  works 
are  studied  in  themselves,  and  apart  from  false  interpre- 
tations, the  more  will  his  acute  intelligence,  practical 
good  sense,  and  pure  morality,  become  apparent,  and 
the  higher  will  he  rise  in  the  respect  and  admiration  of 
the  Christian  philosopher. 

Our  present  object  is,  to  give  a  concise  view  of  the 
philosophic  doctrines  of  Plato,  as  a  sort  of  general  key  to 
his  Dialogpies  viewed  as  a  whole;  and  we  propose  to 
give,  by  way  of  introduction,  a  short  account  of  the  life 
I  (0 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


of  this  man  of  niig-hty  mind,  this  "  Maximus  philoso- 
phorum,"  of  whom  Eusebius  so  beautifully  observes,  that 

he  alone,  of  all  the  Greeks,  reached  to  the  vestibule  of 
truth,  and  stood  upon  its  threshold." 

The  true  moral  history  of  Plato  is  to  be  discovered 
wholly  in  his  writings.  As  for  the  details  of  his  external 
life,  the  records  of  antiquity  furnish  information  so  vary- 
ing, contradictory,  and  uncertain,  as  to  render  it  difficult 
to  distinguish  the  true  from  the  false  —  the  authentic 
from  the  fabulous.  The  following  statement,  however, 
may  be  relied  on,  as  generally  correct. 

Plato,  the  son  of  Ariston  and  Perictione  or  Potona,  was 
bom  (probably  in  the  island  of  ^gina,  then  occupied  by 
Athenians)  in  the  month  Thargelion  (May),  anno  429  B.  C, 
in  the  third  year  of  the  eighty-seventh  Olympiad,  about 
the  time  of  Pericles's  death.  By  his  mother's  side  he 
was  descended  from  Codrus  and  Solon;  and  he  was 
connected  with  the  most  distinguished  families  and  most 
renowned  political  men  of  his  day.  His  youth  falls  in 
the  time  of  the  Peloponnesian  Avar;  and  his  whole  life  is 
closely  connected  with  that  brilliant  period  when  the 
literature  of  Attica,  historical,  dramatic,  and  rhetorical, 
was  at  the  zenith  of  its  glory, —  at  a  time,  however  (we 
must  add),  when  the  seeds  of  Athenian  decay  were  being 
rapidly  brought  to  maturity  by  the  substitution  of  a  base 
and  bnitalizing  ochlocracy  for  the  rational  government 
of  good  and  patriotic  men, —  and  by  the  elevation  of  a 
troop  of  superficial,  seductive,  truth-perverting,  applause- 
loving  sophists  to  the  throne  of  true,  noble,  elevating, 
divine  philosophy.  He  received  the  best  education  that 
Athens  could  furnish;  being  taught  reading,  writing,  and 
literary  knowledge  (ypammTa),  by  Dionysius,  gymnastics  by 
Ariston  an  Argive  wrestler,  music  by  Metellus  of  Agrigen- 
tum  and  Draco  of  Athens,  and  the  elements  of  the  Her- 
acleitean  philosophy  by  Cratyltis  and  Hermogenes.  He  had 
but  little  inclination  for  political  life;  for,  besides  being 
unfitted  for  it  by  a  retiring  habit  and  weak  voice,  he  was 
utterly  disgusted  by  the  endless  changes  that  occurred  in 
the  governments  of  Greece,  by  the  corruptions  of  the 
Athenian  democracy,  and  by  the  depravity  of  Athenian 
manners.    His  studies  were  happily  promoted  by  an  early 


VIEW  OF  THE  PLATONIC  SYSTEM 


3 


cultivation  of  poetry,  in  which  many  of  his  essays  were 
far  from  nnsucccssf ill ;  and  his  works  betray  a  very  con- 
siderable acquaintance  with  mathematical  science.  It  was 
by  Socrates,  however,  that  his  mind  was  imbued  with 
that  true  philosophic  spirit,  which  gave  a  right  direction 
and  exalted  object  to  all  his  after-pursuits.  His  inter- 
course with  this  pure,  simple-minded  moralist  begun 
when  he  was  twenty  years  old  (B.  C.  410),  and  lasted 
nearly  eleven  years ;  during  which  time  he  carried  on  his 
studies  and  inquiries  by  means  of  books  or  oral  instriic- 
tion  from  others,  but  in  all  cases  consulting  his  favorite 
master,  as  the  interpreter,  commentator,  and  critic  of  the 
various  philosophical  studies  in  which  he  was  engaged. 
This,  indeed,  is  the  view  which  Plato  has  given  us  of 
Socrates  throughout  the  Dialogues;  for  the  latter  sel- 
dom or  never  appears  in  them  as  a  didactic  expounder 
of  truth,  but  rather  as  the  critic  of  opinions,  doctrines, 
and  systems, —  the  judge,  in  short,  to  whom  everything 
is  to  be  submitted  for  approval,  or  rejection,  or  modifi- 
cation, as  the  case  may  be. 

After  the  persecution  and  death  of  his  divine  master 
(so  beautifully  and  pathetically  related  in  the  Phaedo) 
Plato  went  to  Megara,  where  he  is  said  to  have  attended 
the  Lectures  of  Euclid ;  and  he  then  spent  several  years 
in  travel,  far  distant  from  the  past  and  the  future  scene 
of  his  philosophical  labors :  —  nor  can  there  be  any  ques- 
tion, but  that  they  were  years  of  great  importance  to  him 
for  developing  the  peculiar  character  of  his  philosophy. 
He  visited  Megara,  Cyrene,  the  Greek  cities  in  Magna 
Graecia  and  Sicily  (where  he  became  acquainted  with 
Archytas,  Philolaus  and  others  of  the  Pythagorean  school) ; 
and  he  traveled  even  as  far  as  Egypt,  where  he  stayed 
thirteen  years  in  gaining  an  insight  into  the  mysterious 
doctrines  and  priest-lore  of  the  sacerdotal  caste.  At  three 
different  periods  he  visited  the  court  of  Dionysius,  tyrant 
of  Sicily,  and  made  several  attempts  to  subdue  his 
haughty  spirit.  It  was  during  the  first  of  these  residences 
(B.  C.  389),  that  he  was  employed  in  the  instruction  of  Dion, 
the  king's  brother-in-law;  and  in  his  efforts  to  rescue  the 
pupil  from  the  general  depravity  of  the  court,  he  was  not 
disappointed.    Dion,  inspired  with  the  love  of  wisdom,  was 


4 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


desirous  of  introducing  his  preceptor  to  Dionysius  the 
tyrant;  but  Plato's  discourse  with  him  being  leveled 
against  the  vices  and  cruelties  of  his  reign,  the  tyrant  con- 
ceived a  violent  prejudice  against  him  and  formed  a  design 
against  his  life,  which,  by  the  aid  of  Dion,  Plato  happily 
managed  to  escape.  His  captivity  in  ^gina,  which  was 
brought  about  by  the  agents  of  Dionysius  the  elder,  hap- 
pily ended  in  his  manumission,  through  the  kindness  of  his 
friend  Anicerris ;  and  he  then  returned  to  Athens,  there  to 
found  his  celebrated  School  in  the  Academy,  Here  he 
lectured  during  twenty-two  years,  and  then  undertook  a 
second  journey  to  Syracuse  at  the  instigation  of  Dion,  who 
hoped,  by  the  philosophical  lessons  of  Plato,  to  inform  and 
improve  the  ill-educated  mind  of  his  nephew,  the  new 
ruler  of  Syracuse  —  Dionysius  the  younger.  This  prince, 
it  is  said,  had  been  brought  up  by  his  father  wholly  des- 
titute of  an  enlightened  education;  and  Plato  no^w  at- 
tempted the  improvement  of  his  mind  by  philosophy. 
This  second  journey  is  placed  B.  C.  367;  and  he  stayed 
four  months  in  Sicily.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  part  also 
of  the  plan  laid  down  by  Dion  and  himself,  to  bring 
about  a  wholesome  reform  in  the  Sicilian  constitution, 
and  to  give  it  a  more  aristocratic  character.  Whatever 
may  have  been  their  intentions,  however,  they  were  all 
frustrated  by  the  weak  and  luxurious  character  of  Diony- 
sius, who,  however  he  might  relish  for  a  time  the  sage 
and  virtuous  lessons  of  Plato,  soon  found  it  more  comform- 
able  to  his  personal  interests  to  follow  the  counsels  of 
Philiston,  his  father's  friend  and  adviser.  Dion  there- 
upon became  the  object  of  his  nephew's  jealousy,  and  was 
banished  on  the  ground  of  his  ambitious  designs.  In  this 
juncture,  Plato  did  not  long  stay  in  Syracuse,  where  his 
position  would  have  been,  at  best,  only  ambiguous.  He 
returned  once  more  to  Athens;  but  in  consequence  of  some 
fresh  disagreements  between  Dionysius  and  Dion  with 
respect  to  the  property  of  the  latter,  he  was  induced 
(B.  C.  361)  to  take  a  third  journey  to  Syracuse.  So  far, 
however,  from  effecting  the  expected  reconciliation,  he 
came  himself  to  an  open  rupture  with  the  tyrant,  and  was 
in  great  personal  danger,  till  relieved  by  his  philosophic 
friends  at  Tarentum.    From  this  time  he  appears  to  have 


VIEW  OP"  THE  PLATONIC  SYSTEM 


5 


passed  his  old  age  in  tranquillity,  engaged  with  the  instruc- 
tion of  his  numerous  disciples  and  the  prosecution  of  his 
literary  labors.  He  died,  while  yet  actively  employed  in 
teaching,  Olyinp.  io8,  circ.  anno  348  B.  C. 

He  was  succeeded  as  Lecturer  in  the  Academy,  by  his 
nephew  Speusippus;  and  among  his  principal  followers 
may  be  mentioned,  Hippothales  and  Callippus  of  Athens, 
Xenocrates  of  Chalcedon,  Aristotle  of  Stageira,  Dion  of 
Syracuse,  Demosthenes  the  orator,  and  the  philosopher 
Theophrastus. 

The  works  of  Plato,  it  scarcely  need  be  mentioned, 
consist  of  a  long  series  of  Dialogues,  in  all  of  which,  ex- 
cept the  Laws,  the  principal  interlocutor  is  Socrates. 
The  form  of  dialogue  he  was  certainly  not  the  first  to 
introduce  into  philosophy;  and  it  seems  probable,  that 
his  adoption  of  this  form  of  composition  flowed  rather 
out  of  the  subject  than  from  any  desire  of  direct  imita- 
tion. The  Eleatic  dialectics,  with  which  Platonism  is 
strongly  imbued,  could  only  be  explained  in  the  form  of 
question  and  answer;  and  besides,  that  Plato  should  write 
in  the  form  of  dialogue  seems  to  be  the  natural  conse- 
quence of  his  wish  to  investigate  and  analyze  dialectic- 
ally,  and  after  the  manner  of  Socrates,  the  various 
questions  of  philosophy  then  m  vogue.  And  so  Schleier- 
macher  remarks :  —  "In  every  way,  not  accidentally  only 
or  from  practice  and  tradition,  but  necessarily  and  nat- 
urally, Plato's  was  a  Socratic  method,  and,  indeed,  as 
regards  the  uninterrupted  and  progressive  reciprocation, 
and  the  deeper  impression  made  upon  the  mind  of  the 
hearer,  to  be  certainly  as  much  preferred  to  that  of  his 
master,  as  the  scholar  excelled  him,  as  well  in  constructive 
dialectics  as  in  richness  and  compass  of  subjective  intu- 
ition. "  And  further,  —  *  if  we  look  only  to  the  immediate 
purpose,  that  writing,  as  regarded  by  himself  and  his 
followers,  was  only  to  be  a  remembrance  of  thoughts 
already  current  among  them  {aypacpa  ypdiiiiara)  —  Plato 
considers  all  thought  so  much  like  spontaneous  ac- 
tivity, that,  with  him,  a  remembrance  of  this 
kind  of  what  has  been  already  acquired,  must 
necessarily  be  so  of  the  first  and  original  mode  of 
acquisition.     Hence,  on  that  account  alone,    the  dialo- 


6 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


gistic  form,  necessary  as  an  imitation  of  that  original  and 
reciprocal  communication,  would  be  as  indispensable  and 
natural  to  his  writings  as  to  his  oral  instruction.**  But, 
however  essentially  different  the  form  of  the  dialogues 
adopted  by  Plato  from  that  pursued  by  other  writers,  they 
were  composed,  as  respects  their  matter,  with  constant 
reference  to  the  labors  of  his  predecessors.  In  fact,  his 
whole  system  is  rather  critical  and  eclectic  than  dogmati- 
cal; and  several  of  his  dialogues  assume  the  form  of 
criticisms  on  the  notions  of  former  philosophers,  rather 
than  the  formal  developments  of  any  doctrines  of  his  own. 
He  was  thoroughly  conversant  not  only  with  the  leading 
principles  and  peculiar  system  of  Socrates,  but  had  no 
mean  acquaintance,  besides,  with  the  notions  of  Pytha- 
goras, Heracleitus,  Parmenides,  Empedocles,  Zeno,  Anaxa- 
goras,  and  Protagoras, — extracts  from  whose  writings,  with 
animadvertions  on  their  opinions,  are  abundantly  scattered 
throughout  his  works.  Yet,  however  much  Plato  may 
have  learnt  from  the  philosophic  works  of  his  predecessors, 
while  he  borrowed  some  of  his  leading  ideas  from  his 
great  master  Socrates,  we  should  nevertheless  be  treating 
him  most  unjustly,  were  we  to  regard  him  merely  as  a 
compiler  and  systematizer  of  what  had  been  before 
promulgated,  and  so  deny  him  all  claim  to  the  merit  of 
being  a  great  original  thinker.  His  entire  system  is  based, 
in  fact,  on  some  grand  and  novel  ideas,  perhaps  faintly 
shadowed  forth  by  others,  but  never  clearly  unfolded  till 
the  time  of  Plato.  The  opposition  between  the  general 
law  and  the  particular  facts,  between  the  objects  of  reflec- 
tion and  the  objects  of  the  senses,  between  the  world  of 
intelligence  and  the  visible  world,  was  never  clearly  pro- 
claimed till  Plato  announced  it.  Socrates,  indeed, 
awakened  the  germ  of  science,  and  laid  the  foundation 
of  dialectics ;  but  it  was  Plato  who  gave  system  and  con- 
sistency to  the  whole.  Socrates  had  not  the  mental 
capacity  or  education  to  arrange  his  thoughts  on  any 
definite  plan;  whereas  the  kindred  genius  of  Plato 
was  happily  fostered  by  every  encouraging  influence, 
and  he  stepped  in  to  elaborate  completely  the  plan  of 
which  his  master  had  merely  sketched  the  first  rude  out- 
line. 


VIEW  OF  THE  PLATONIC  SYSTEM 


7 


We  proceed  next  to  consider  the  chronological  arrange- 
ment of  the  Platonic  Dialogues,  and  the  natviral  division 
according  to  which  they  should  be  classified.*  The  most 
obvious  arrangement  is  according  to  their  chronological 
order;  and  viewing  them  in  this  light,  we  may  divide 
them  into  three  classes.  In  the  first  are  those  written  by 
Plato  before  he  set  out  on  his  travels, — namely,  the  Lysis, 
Pha;drus,  Laches,  Hippias  major,  Protagoras,  Charmides, 
Ion,  Menon,  Alcibiades  i.,  Euthydemus,  Euthyphron, 
Crito  and  the  Apology  of  Socrates;  in  the  second  are 
those  which  he  drew  up  on  his  return  from  his  travels,  and 
before  his  second  journey  to  Sicily, — namely,  the  Gorgias, 
Theaetetus,  Sophistes,  Politicus,  Cratylus,  Parmenides,  the 
Symposium,  Menexenus,  Philebus,  and  Pha;do ;  and  in  the 
THIRD  we  place  those  written  in  more  advanced  life,  when 
his  views  had  become  matured,  and  his  doctrines  thoroughly 
digested  into  one  harmonious  system, — namely,  that  noble 
trilogy  comprising  the  Timaeus,  Critias,  and  Republic, — to 
which  may  be  added  the  long  dialogue  of  the  Laws,  which, 
though  perfectly  genuine,  is  but  loosely  connected  with 
the  general  system  of  Plato's  philosophy,  and  seems  to  be 
quite  an  extraneous  section  of  this  part  of  his  writings. 
Schleiermacher,  however,  has  presented  us  with  a  classi- 
fication of  a  different  kind,  based  on  their  subject-matter, 
and  on  an  acute  and  careful  examination  of  the  connection 
of  thought  running  through  the  Dialogues.  He  arranges 
them  under  three  heads:  i.  Elementary  Dialogues, 
containing  the  germs  of  all  that  follows, — of  Logic  as  the 
instrument  of  philosophy,  and  of  Ideas  as  its  proper  object, 
— vis.,  the  Phaedrus,  Protagoras,  and  Parmenides,  the 
Lysis,  Laches,  Charmides,  and  Euthyphron,  to  which  he 
appends  also,  the  Apology,  Crito,  lo,  and  Hippias  minor; 
2.  Progressive  Dialogues,  which  treat  of  the  distinction 
between  scientific  and  common  knowledge  in  their  united 
application  to  Moral  and  Physical  science, — viz.,  the  Gor- 
gias, Theaetetus,  Menon,  Euthydemus,  Cratylus,  Sophis- 

*  We  have  particularized  here  only  those  Dialogues  which  are 
usually  regarded  as  genuine.  The  Hipparchus,  Minos,  Alcibiades  ii, 
Clitophon,  Theages,  Eryxias,  Demodocus,  Epinomis,  and  the  Letters, 
are  of  disputable  origin,  and  to  be  assigned,  probably,  to  some  of 
Plato's  followers. 


8 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


tes,  Politicus,  the  Symposium,  Phaedo,  and  Philebus,  with  an 
Appendix  containing  the  Erast,  first  Alcibiades,  Menexenus, 
and  Hippias  major;  3.  Constructive  Dialogues,  contain- 
ing an  objective  scientific  exposition,  in  which  the  practical 
and  speculative  are  completely  united, —  viz.,  the  Timasus, 
the  Critias,  and  the  Republic,  with  an  Appendix  com- 
prising the  Laws,  Epistles,  etc.  It  is  clear  also  that  the 
Dialogues  will  allow  of  yet  another  mode  of  arrangement, 
according  to  their  contents, — as  being  either  Dialectical, 
Ethical,  or  Physical:  this  division,  indeed,  is  clearly 
discernible  in  his  works,  though  several  may  not  be  as. 
signable  to  any  one  part  in  particular:  thus,  the  Theae- 
tetus  and  its  two  connected  dialogues, — the  Georgias  and 
Protagoras,  with  the  Cratylus  and  the  Sophistes,  are 
clearly  dialectical;  the  Phaedrus,  Philebus,  Republic,  and 
Laws  are  ethical,  and  the  Timaeus  is  exclusively  physical. 
If,  however,  we  would  view  the  Dialogues  as  a  whole, 
with  all  its  parts  fully  harmonizing,  we  should  inquire 
what  was  the  philosopher's  great  object  visible  through- 
out those  writings.  Mr.  Sewell  answers  this  very  satis- 
factorily; we  shall  give  his  own  expressive,  glowing 
words:  *^  Plato's  great  object  was  man.  He  lived  with 
man,  felt  as  a  man,  held  intercourse  with  kings,  inter- 
ested himself  deeply  in  the  political  revolutions  of  Sicily, 
was  the  pupil  of  one,  whose  boast  it  was  to  have  brought 
down  philosophy  from  heaven  to  earth,  that  it  might  raise 
man  up  from  earth  to  heaven;  and,  above  all,  he  was  a 
witness  and  an  actor  in  the  midst  of  that  ferment  of 
humanity  exhibited  in  the  democracy  of  Athens.  The 
object  constantly  before  the  eyes  of  Plato  was  the  incor- 
porated spirit,  the  ulya  dpiiiiia  of  human  lawlessness ;  he  saw 
it,  indeed,  in  an  exhausted  state,  its  power  passed  away, 
its  splendor  torn  off,  and  all  the  sores  and  ulcers  which 
former  demagogues  had  pampered  and  concealed,  now 
laid  bare  and  beyond  cure.**  Indeed,  as  the  same  writer 
well  observes ;  "  the  state  of  the  Athenian  democracy  is 
the  real  clue  to  the  philosophy  of  Plato.  It  would  be 
proved,  if  by  nothing  else,  by  one  little  touch  in  the  Re- 
public. The  Republic  is  the  summary  of  his  whole  sys- 
tem, AND  the  key-stones  OF  ALL  THE  OTHER  DIALOGUES  ARE 

UNIFORMLY  LET  INTO  IT.    But  the  objcct  of  the  Republic  is 


VIEW  OF  THE  TLATONIC  SYSTEM 


9 


to  exhibit  the  misery  of  man  let  loose  from  law,  and  to 
throw  out  a  general  plan  for  making  him  subject  to  law, 
and  thus  to  perfect  his  nature.  This  is  exhibited  on  a 
large  scale  in  the  person  of  a  State ;  and  in  the  masterly- 
historical  sketch  which,  in  the  eighth  and  ninth  Books, 
he  draws  of  the  changes  of  society,  having  painted  in 
the  minutest  detail  the  form  of  a  licentious  democracy, 
he  fixes  it  by  the  slightest  allusion  (it  was  perhaps  all 
that  he  could  hazard)  on  the  existing  state  of  Athens; 
and  then  passes  on  to  a  frightful  prophecy  of  that  tyr- 
anny which  would  inevitably  follow.  All  the  other  dia- 
logues bring  us  to  the  Republic,  and  the  Republic  brings 
us  to  this  as  its  end  and  aim." 

We  may  now  proceed  to  take  a  general  review  of  the 
Platonic  philosophy,  and  his  theory  of  Ideas  in  particular, 
an  intelligent  acquaintance  with  which  is  wholly  indis- 
pensable to  the  student  of  Plato. 

The  Platonic  philosophy,  be  it  understood,  begins  and 
ends,  as  do  the  lessons  of  Socrates,  with  an  acknowledg- 
ment of  human  ignorance, —  the  only  true  starting-place 
of  sound  scientific  investigation.  Imitating  his  master's 
example,  Plato  did  not  so  much  endeavor  to  teach,  in 
the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  as  to  explore  men's  minds, 
and  ascertain  how  far  they  really  comprehended  the  doc- 
trines and  opinions  which  they  professed.  Taking  for 
granted  that  all  current  opinions  are  true,  because  they 
are  current,  was  the  great  fault  of  the  Sophists,  who 
taught  entirely  ■r:po<;  So^av  relative  to  opinion;  whereas, 
with  Socrates  and  Plato,  the  preliminary  investigation  re- 
specting their  truth  or  falsehood  was  all  in  all, —  any 
prior  assumption  of  their  truth  being  positively  inadmis- 
sible ;  because,  without  investigation,  it  was  impossible  to 
KNOW  and  be  sure  of  the  truth  of  opinions.  The  method 
of  Plato,  accordingly,  is  the  reverse  of  the  didactic  method 
employed  by  the  Sophists,  who  assumed  principles  as 
true,  and  on  these  grounds  proceeded  to  argue  and  per- 
suade. The  Socratic  method,  on  the  other  hand,  con- 
sisted in  putting  questions  with  the  view  of  eliciting 
replies  bearing  on  the  point  in  debate,  —  in  simply 
inquiring  and  pronouncing  so  far  only  as  the  an- 
swer is  approved  or  rejected, — in  a  word,  educing  the 


lO 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


truth  by  simply  bringing  the  answerer  to  teach  him- 
self :  and  hence  it  was,  that  the  popular  opponents 
of  this  method  decried  it,  as  one  producing  doubt, 
and  therefore  of  dangerous  tendency.  With  Plato,  how- 
ever, as  with  Socrates,  the  awakening  of  doubt  was  not 
merely  a  vain  display  of  logical  skill  and  clever  caviling, 
but  had  for  its  object  the  removal  of  the  unstable  ground 
on  which  opinions  may  have  been  rested,  and  the  forma- 
tion of  more  settled  convictions:  indeed,  it  was  exalted 
by  him  into  a  regular  discipline  of  the  mind  set  in  operation 
for  the  single  purpose  of  investigating  the  truth.  The 
method  and  discipline  by  which  he  accomplishes  this  object 
is,  what  he  calls  Dialectic,  which,  as  opposed  to  the 
plans  of  the  Sophists  may  be  termed  the  true  art  of  Dis- 
cussion ;  and,  as  contrasted  with  the  mere  wisdom  of  opinion 
(the  doqo/To<j)ia  of  Sophists),  it  was  philosophy  —  real  science 
—  the  knowledge  of  the  truth.  The  ground  of  his  whole 
proceeding  was  the  Fallaciousness  of  Opinion;  and  hence 
Plato  had  to  seek  some  criterion  of  Truth,  apart  from 
mere  opinion.  Denying  the  sufficiency  of  subjective 
truth  ( i.  c.  the  assumption  that  the  mental  perceptions 
are  true  simply  because  they  take  place),  he  set  himself 
to  search  after  objective  truth  —  truth  independent  of  the 
mind  of  man  and  not  affected  by  the  variations  of  human 
judgment  —  as  a  foundation  of  his  system  of  knowledge. 
Involved  with  the  notion  of  the  Fallaciousness  of  Opinion, 
another  is  closely  allied, — the  Fallaciousness  of  the 
Senses;  and  it  is  the  joint  application  of  these  two  funda- 
mental principles,  which  unites  his  method  and  his  philos- 
ophy in  one  master-science, — Dialectic.  True  knowledge, 
unlike  that  derived  through  the  senses,  is  founded  purely 
on  the  apprehensions  of  the  intellect,  without  any  inter- 
vention whatever  of  the  senses;  and  so  also  Dialectic  as 
being  philosophy,  is  occupied  about  that  which  exists 
(ro  ovTtu?  01*),  or  has  Being,  in  opposition  to  the  presen- 
tations made  to  the  senses,  which  are  conversant  only 
with  those  things  that  have  the  semblance  of  being 
(ra  ipacvofiiva) ;  while,  as  a  method,  it  investigates  the 
reason  on  account  of  the  Being  of  everything, —  of  every- 
thing as  it  IS,  and  not  as  it  appears,  not  being  satisfied 
with  opinions,  of  which  no  account  can  be  given,  but 


VIEW  OF  THE  PLATONIC  SYSTEM 


bringing  all  to  the  test  of  exact  argument  and  definition. 
Plato  thought  it  his  first  business,  therefore,  to  give  his 
method  a  firm  basis  by  establishing  at  the  outset  a  sound 
Theory  of  Being,  as  a  sure  Criterion  of  Truth ;  and  this 
is  his  celebrated  Theory  of  Ideas. 

Plato  conceived,  that  Opinion,  in  contradistinction  from 
Knowledge,  is  grounded  on  sensation  and  becoming 
(to  yiyvo/xevov).  To  man,  indeed,  such  sensation  is  abso- 
lutely necessary;  because  the  soul  resides  in  the  body, 
which  is  itself  a  compound  thing,  subject  to  continual 
decay  and  reproduction, —  the  connection  between  the  two 
consisting  in  the  reciprocal  communication  either  of  action 
or  passion  by  means  of  their  respective  faculties.  Hence 
sensation  is  clearly  regarded  as  an  effect  produced  by  the 
union  of  the  soul  with  the  body;  and  Plato  did  not  fail 
to  observe  that  although  sensation,  strictly  speaking,  has 
cognizance  only  of  corporeal  qualities,  there  are  certain 
internal  states  of  the  soul  which  have  no  immediate  ref- 
erence to  the  corporeal.  The  soul,  in  short,  receives 
sensations  through  the  sensuous  mechanism;  but  it  has, 
moreover  (in  addition  to  the  power  which  it  exercises 
through  the  instrumentality  of  the  bodily  organs),  a  dis- 
tinct faculty  of  investigating  by  itself  the  abstract  prop- 
erties of  all  sensations ;  "  appearing,  *  as  it  is  said  in  the 
Theaetetus,  "  to  have  the  power  of  inspecting  the  common 
properties  of  all  things.*  In  accordance  with  this  view, 
Plato  distinguishes  what  is  apprehended  by  the  senses 
(to  aiffOrjTov)  from  that  of  which  we  become  cognizant  by 
means  of  reflection  (Stdvoia)  through  the  understanding  or 
rational  contemplation  (Xoyifffioij  or  vorjffci)  ; — the  former  be- 
ing in  a  continual  state  of  transition  or  becoming  (rd 
ytyvofxeva),  whereas  the  latter  {rd  Svra)  are  constant  and  per- 
manent, unproduced,  imperishable,  and  ever  identical  with 
themselves,  belonging  to  ouaia  and  capable  of  becoming 
the  objects  of  science  or  certain  knowledge.  Such  are 
the  notions  of  genus  and  species,  the  laws  and  ends  of 
nature,  as  also  the  principles  of  cognition  and  moral 
action,  and  the  essences  of  individual,  concrete,  thinking 
souls; — respecting  all  of  which  may  be  predicted  an 
eTooj,  which  closely  corresponds  with  what  we  now  des- 
ignate—  A  general  term.    It  is  in  this  sense,  then,  that 


12 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


he  says  of  science  in  general  (which  seeks  in  the  ideas 
to  seize  the  essence  of  things),  that  its  object  is  to  ex- 
hibit everything  as  it  is,  by  itself,  absolutely,  and  that 
the  ideas  themselves  invariably  maintain  their  proper 
nature,  character,  and  identity.  All  things  else,  there- 
fore, besides  ideas,  have  only  so  far  a  reality,  as  they 
participate  therein:  all  being  formed  out  of  ideas  and 
numbers, — sensible  things  merely  resembling  ideas  and 
being,  as  copies  do  originals, —  just  as  Plato  himself  ob- 
serves in  the  tenth  Book  of  the  Republic, —  speaking  of 
a  couch,  ov  TO  iv,  dikkd  Ti  TotouTov  eilov  TO  6v.  Inquiry,  however, 
must  necessarily  lead  men  from  one  idea  to  others  in 
connection  therewith ;  and  on  this  account  Plato  regarded 
individual  ideas  as  hypothetical  notions,  for  which  a  true 
foundation  can  only  be  given  by  an  idea  not  requiring 
explanation  and  confirmed  also  by  some  higher  supposi- 
tion or  idea.  He  wished,  indeed,  through  the  realization 
of  the  lower  ideas  to  rise  to  a  knowledge  of  the  highest, 
which  represents  the  principle  of  all  things, — in  short, 
the  idea  of  God, —  God,  the  measure  of  all  things  (not 
man,  as  Protagoras  held), —  God,  the  beginning,  the  mid- 
dle, and  the  end  of  all, — the  Supreme  Idea,  containing  in 
itself  all  others,  and  the  unity  which  in  itself  comprises 
the  true  essence  of  all  things. 

In  conclusion,  as  Ritter  succinctly  and  well  observes, 
"  Plato  attempted  to  account  for  the  existence  of  the 
sensible  world,  by  the  ideas  alone,  without  recourse  to 
any  other  nature,  alien  and  foreign  to  them;  and  in  this 
attempt  to  make  the  transition  from  the  ideal  to  the  sen- 
sible, there  is  much  that  is  vague  and  indeterminate. 
The  source  of  this  vagueness  lies  principally  in  the  in- 
sufficiency of  the  distinction  which  h6  makes  between 
different  ideas,  as  indicating  either  a  substantial  and  ab- 
solute entity,  or  a  mere  relation  or  property.  To  this 
must  be  added  the  vague  and  indeterminate  sense  of  the 
Platonic  idea  of  the  essence  which  is  exhibited  by  the 
ideas  severally.  In  this  respect  Aristotle  does  not  seem 
to  be  to  blame,  when  he  asks  how  ideas  or  lifeless  num- 
bers can  possibly  have  a  desire,  or  longing,  notwithstand- 
ing that  we  are  constrained  to  admit  that,  according  to 
Plato,  some  ideas,  at  least,  that  of  the  soul  for  instance, 


VIEW  OF  THE  PLATONIC  SYSTEM 


13 


—  must  be  supposed  to  be  endued  with  life.  Again,  the 
distinction  which  is  made  between  ideas  in  their  unity 
and  totality,  and  ideas  in  their  opposition  to  each  other, 
is  extremely  vague;  although  it  is  the  basis  on  which 
the  whole  theory  rests.  If,  moreover,  we  admit  that,  ac- 
cording to  man's  true  and  real  nature,  the  world  of  ideas 
is  his  proper  home,  and  that  he  there  contemplates  the 
true  essence  of  things,  as  is  implied  in  the  doctrine  of 
reminiscence,  it  becomes  difficult  to  account  for  his  re- 
moval from  so  perfect  a  state  of  being,  into  the  present 
imperfect  existence.  Finally,  Plato  was  forced  to  have 
recourse  to  the  notion,  that  there  is  an  impelling  neces- 
sity in  the  secondary  causes,  the  ground  of  which  was 
the  supposition,  that  there  must  be  something  opposite 
to  good.  In  this  there  is  undoubtedly  contained  a  very 
ancient  cast  of  thought,  still  the  very  indefinite  nature 
of  this  necessity  shows  that,  after  all  his  attempts  to 
reconcile  the  supra-sensible  with  the  sensible,  Plato  still 
found  in  it  something  inexplicable.  Thus  much  at  least 
is  certain,  that  on  the  one  hand,  the  tendency  of  his 
views  was  to  refer  all  real  entity  to  the  immutable  ideas, 
and  consequently  to  consider  the  sensible  more  as  an  un- 
substantial shadow  than  a  reality;  while,  on  the  other, 
he  seems  never  to  have  forgotten  that  the  only  point  of 
view  from  which  philosophical  speculation  is  possible,  lies 
on  the  sensible,  and  so  again  the  reality  of  the  sensible 
appears  to  be  a  necessary  supposition  of  his  system.  In 
these  two  tendencies,  we  may  recognize  the  well-balanced 
and  measured  character  of  his  mind.  To  discover  their 
true  connection  however,  was  granted  neither  to  Plato 
nor  his  age;  nor  can  we  wonder,  then,  that  he  should 
have  had  recourse  to  many  vague  and  loose  conceptions 
in  order  to  explain  it,  none  of  which,  however,  event- 
ually satisfied  his  own  mind. 

The  dialetic  of  Plato,  however  great  its  defects  may  be 
estimated,  presents,  nevertheless,  a  worthy  image  of 
the  pure  philosophical  feeling.  This  Plato  assumed  to  be 
grounded  in  love  and  in  a  longing  after  the  eternal 
ideas,  by  the  contemplation  of  which  the  mortal  soul 
sustains  itself,  and  by  perpetual  renovation  becomes  par- 
ticipant in  immortality.      Stimulated  by  such  a  desire, 


14 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


the  philosophical  mind  or  soul  strives  to  attain,  as  far  as 
possible,  to  a  perfect  remembrance  of  ideas  which  are  the 
eternal  essence  of  things,  the  memory  of  them  being 
awakened  by  sensible  phenomena,  which  arc  resemblances 
of  the  ideas  and  real  entity,  and  thereby  serve  as  means 
by  which  the  cognition  of  real  being  becomes  attainable. 
But  while  tlje  sensible,  by  bringing  to  mind  this  resem- 
blance ,to  real  entity,  is  subservient  to  the  efforts  of  the 
reasonable  soul,  it  also  impedes  and  limits  it  in  its  pur- 
suits of  the  true,  since  the  sensuous  representations  con- 
tain as  much  of  irresemblance  as  of  resemblance.  But 
the  greatest  impediment  to  philosophical  investigation 
arises  from  the  constant  flux  of  sensation  which  allows 
it  no  stability.  Flowing  on  in  a  continual  series  of  pro- 
duction and  decay,  sensible  things  are  constantly  chang- 
ing their  state  and  never  exhibit  the  full  perfection  of 
the  subsistent.  They  comprise  at  once  entity  and  non- 
entity, and  it  is  not  the  true  standard  and  the  all-sufficient 
which  they  represent,  but  only  the  relative,  which  con- 
stantly varies  by  greater  or  less  from  the  measure  of  the 
true  and  substantive  entity.  It  was  to  this  that  Plato 
looked  when  he  thoiight  he  had  discovered  in  the  ideas 
of  the  other  and  the  relatively  great  and  little,  the 
grounds  of  the  sensible  matter  of  mutability.  But  con- 
tingent being  is  only  for  the  absolute,  a  mean  merely  by 
which  the  resemblance  to  ideas  is  manifested  in  sensible 
things;  and,  viewed  in  this  light,  ideas  must  appear  as  the 
ends  of  sensible  existence,  and  as  the  standard  by  which  the 
true  therein  is  to  be  measured.  A  multiplicity  of  ends  hav- 
ing been  admitted,  it  followed  that  there  must  also  be  a  last 
end, — an  ultimatum  in  the  realm  of  ideas, —  therefore  a 
SUPREME  IDEA.  This  result  follows  from  the  consider- 
ation of  the  mutual  relation  of  ideas,  for  one  idea  must 
be  explained  by  another,  and  thus  we  proceed  through  a 
series  of  subordinate  ideas  up  to  higher  and  higher,  in 
order  to  reduce  them  by  a  legitimate  synthesis  into  unity, 
until  at  last  we  arrive  at  the  highest  idea,  and  then 
again,  by  a  converse  method,  to  descend  by  analysis 
from  the  supreme  unity  to  the  multiplicity  of  subordinate 
ideas.  In  this  higher  and  lower  ordination,  each  subordi- 
nate idea  requires  merely  as  a  supposition  until  it  is  shown 


VIEW  OF  THE  PLATONIC  SYSTEM 


5 


by  the  latter  to  be  legitimate.  But  from  such  hypothe- 
ses or  suppositions  the  mind  must  at  last  arrive  at  that 
which  implies  nothing  else,  and  is  in  itself  sufficient;  of 
this  kind  is  the  nature  of  good,  which,  exhausting  all 
true  entity,  is  itself  in  want  of  nothing,  but  is  desired 
by  all.  This  idea  of  good,  or  God,  is  consequently  the 
keystone  of  all  rational  investigation.  It  embraces  what- 
ever subsists  without  difference,  in  time  or  space, —  all 
truth  and  science,  all  substances  and  all  reason,  being 
neither  reason  nor  essence,  but  being  superior  to,  unites 
both  within  itself.  It  is  the  source  of  motion  to  all,  for 
all  has  a  desire  towards  it,  and  consequently  it  is  the 
mistress  of  all  generation,  in  which  nought  is  true  be- 
yond its  resemblance  of  the  good.  However,  from  some 
impelling  necessity,  evil,  the  opposite  of  good,  is  in  gen- 
eration mixed  up  with  it.  Man,  therefore,  as  living  in 
this  scene  of  production  and  decay,  cannot  attain  to  a 
complete  knowledge  of  the  unity  of  good;  for  to  him 
truth,  and  the  science  of  truth,  appear  in  opposition  to 
each  other,  and  it  is  not  permitted  to  mortal  nature  to 
contemplate  the  eternal,  in  its  absolute  essence,  but 
merely  as  shadowed  forth  in  the  temporal.  God,  then,  is 
the  good  itself,  of  which  this  sensible  world  is  only  an 
image.  But  in  the  present  world  it  ought  to  be  man's 
endeavor  to  enlarge  and  cultivate  his  science,  in  order 
that,  by  attaining  to  as  pure  a  knowledge  as  possible  of 
the  multiplicity  of  ideas,  he  may  be  able  to  discern  therein, 
however  imperfectly,  the  unity  of  truth  and  science  which 
subsists  in  the  good. 


PART  II. 


PLATO'S  VIEWS  ON   ETHICS  AND  POLITICS- 
GENERAL  SKETCH  OF  THE  SUBJECT- 
MATTER  OF  THE  REPUBLIC. 

The  notions  entertained  by  Plato  on  Political  Science 
will  be  best  understood  by  viewing  them  in  connection 
with  his  ethical  doctrines,  from  which,  indeed,  he  con- 
sidered them  inseparable.  The  two  leading  principles  on 
which  his  moral  system  reposes,  are  —  first,  that  no  one 
is  willingly  evil  /ca/co?  fih  Umv  ouSe\i  and,  secondly,  that 

EVERY  ONE  IS  ENDUED  WITH  THE  POWER  OF  PRODUCING 
MORAL    CHANGES  IN    HIS    OWN    MORAL    CHARACTER,  which, 

indeed,  are  only  the  counterpart  ethical  changes  in  his 
MORAL  character;  —  and  these  are  only  the  correspond- 
ing ethical  expressions  of  the  theory  of  Immutable  Being, 
on  the  one  hand,  and,  on  the  other,  of  the  world  of 
sensible  things  (ret  yc^vo/ieva), —  everything  that  is  bom 
and  perishes, —  a  principle  which  places  in  the  strongest 
possible  contrast  the  mutability  and  false  appearances  of 
this  world  with  the  true  and  immutable  of  the  Deity, 
whom  Plato  conceived  to  be  not  only  the  measure  of  all 
things  and  the  pattern  of  his  own  perfections,  having  the 
supreme  good  for  the  object  of  all  his  operations,  but 
likewise  as  the  only  real  Idea  of  Good,  in  comparison 
with  which  the  best  strivings  and  conceptions  of  man  are 
but  tendencies  and  approximations.  So  truly  is  it  said  in 
the  Phasdo,  that  "  all  things  desire  to  be  of  the  same  qual- 
ity as  the  summum  bonum,  but  yet  are  ever  inferior  to  it. 
Philosophy  and  morals  in  fact  perfectly  coincide  in  their 
object,  the  love  of  truth  being  the  love  of  good,  and 
the  love  of  good  the  love  of  truth ;  and  morality,  viewed 
per  se,  is  the  one  motive  of  the  love  of  truth  and  good 
predominating  over,  purifying,  and  absorbing  into  itself 
every  desire  of  human  nature, —  is,  in  fact,  the  purifying: 

(X*) 


PLATO'S  ETHICAL  DOCTRINES 


17 


of  the  soul,  the  perfecting  of  virtue,  the  discipline  of  im- 
mortality, the  resemblance  and  participation  of  the  Deity.* 
Of  Plato's  moral  doctrines,  the  most  important  are  the 
following:  that,  independently  of  other  ends,  virtue  is 
to  be  pursued  as  the  true  good  of  the  soul,  the  proper 
perfection  of  man's  nature,  the  power  by  which  the  soul 
fitly  accomplishes  its  existence,  whereas  vice  is  a  disease 
of  the  mind  arising  from  delusions  or  imperfect  appre- 
hension of  our  proper  interests;  that  the  real  freedom 
of  a  rational  being  consists  in  an  ability  to  regulate  his 
conduct  by  reason,  and  that  every  one  not  guided  by  his 
reason,  encourages  insubordination  in  the  mental  facul- 
ties, and  becomes  the  slave  of  caprice  or  passion;  that 
virtuous  conduct,  apart  from  its  benefits  to  society,  is  ad- 
vantageous to  the  individual  practicing  it,  inasmuch  as  it 
ensures  that  regularity  of  the  imagination, — that  tran- 
quillity and  internal  harmony,  which  constitutes  the  mind's 
proper  happiness.  He,  throughout,  and  with  great  power, 
contends  for  the  earnestness  of  a  virtuous  mind  in  the 
attainment  of  truth,  and  inculcates  the  propriety  of  pur- 
suing the  ordinary  pleasures  of  life,f  only  so  far  as  they 
are  subservient  to,  or  compatible  with,  man's  higher  and 
nobler  duties.  In  the  fourth  Book  of  the  Laws  there  is 
a  pretty  complete  summary  of  the  salient  features  in 
Plato's  theory  of  morals, —  a  condensed  view  of  which 
will  be  found  in  the  article  "  Plato  "of  the  Encyclopaedia 

*  "  As  the  rational  soul  can  only  involuntarily  be  subject  to  ignorance. 

IT  IS    ONLY   AGAINST    ITS  WILL  THAT   IT  CAN   BE  EVIL.     Eveiy  VOHtiOD, 

by  its  essential  nature,  pursues  the  good ;  no  one  is  willing  to  be  sub- 
ject to  evil  or  to  become  bad,  inasmuch  as  the  end  of  volition  is  not 
the  immediate  act,  but  the  object  for  the  sake  of  which  the  act  is 
undertaken;  and  no  man  enters  on  any  act  or  undertaking,  except 
for  the  sake  of  ultimate  good.  Now  a  man,  when  engaging  in  any 
act  apparently  good,  may  err,  and  choose  the  evil  instead  of  the  good ; 
but  in  that  case  he  labors  under  an  involuntary  error,  and  does 
not  what  he  really  desires,  but  what,  in  spite  of  his  wishes,  seems 
to  him  either  as  an  immediate  good  or  a  mean  to  ultimate  good.* — 
Ritter's  « History  of  Philos."  (Morrison's  Tr.),  ii.,  p.  387. 

t  Democritus,  Aristippus,  and  the  Sophists  had  taught  that  good 
CONSISTS  IN  pleasure;  and  Plato,  in  his  refutation  of  this  vicious 
doctrine,  does  not  deny  that  pleasure  belongs  to  the  good  things  of 
life,  but  only  seeks  to  determine  its  relative  value.  Pleasures,  too,  are 
of  two  kinds, —  some  simple  and  pure,  dependent  on  the  bodily  or 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


Metropolitana :  the  remarks  with  which  it  closes  —  on 
the  coincidence  of  the  precepts  of  morality  with  the  con- 
clusions of  prudence  and  enlightened  self-love, —  are  both 
happily  conceived  and  well  expressed. 

Plato  conceived  that  there  were  two  great  causes  of 
•  human  corruption,  viz.,  bad  or  ill-directed  education, 

and    THE  CORRUPT    INFLUENCE  OF  THE    BODY  ON    THE  SOUL. 

His  ethical  discussions,  therefore,  have  for  their  object, 
the  limiting  of  the  desires,  and  the  cure  of  the  diseases 
produced  by  them  in  the  soul;  while  his  political  discus- 
sions have  for  their  immediate  object,  the  laying  down 
of  right  principles  of  education,  and  enforcing  them  by 
the  constitution  of  the  laws  and  the  power  of  the  State. 
His  two  great  works,  in  fact, — the  Republic  and  the 
Laws, — may  be  considered  as  theories  and  plans  of  civic 
education,  rather  than  schemes  of  legislation  and  details 
of  laws.  The  former,  it  is  true,  inquires  more  particu- 
larly into  the  principles  on  which  a  right  government 
may  be  formed,  and  the  latter  presents  a  systematic  view 
of  the  principles  of  legislation:  but,  comprising,  as  both 
works  do,  so  much  matter  of  a  purely  intellectual  and 
ethical  character,  we  are  compelled  to  conclude  that  their 
primary  object  is,  the  improvement  of  human  nature  by 
social  institutions  expressly  formed  for  that  purpose.  We 
are  not  to  suppose,  moreover,  that  Plato,  in  his  Republic, 
had  in  view  the  actual  foundation  of  a  State,  but  that  he 
presents  rather  an  example  of  the  most  perfect  life  — 
public  as  well  as  private  —  free  from  those  impediments 
which  all  existing  governments  and  laws  throw  across 
the  path  of  the  virtuous.  Thus,  in  the  Laws  {lib.  vii.), 
he  says  —  "  Our  whole  government  consists  in  the  imita- 
tion of  a  most  excellent  and  virtuous  life " ;  and  again , 
"these  excellent  things  are  rather  as  wishes  stated  in  a 
fable  than  actual  facts,  though  it  would  be  best  of  all  if 

intellectual  organization, —  others  mixed  or  impure,  as  being  always 
combined  with  more  or  less  of  pain.  The  latter  are  only  relatively 
pleasures,  inasmuch  as  they  are  incapable  of  affording  pleasure  except 
by  the  gratification  of  some  want;  whereas  true  enjoyment  consists 
in  those  pure  delights  which  do  not  arise  after  pain,  but  which  the 
soul  experiences,  when  filled  with  the  contemplation  of  true  being. — 
Ritter's  « History  of  Philos.,»  ii,.  p.  390. 


PLATO'S  ETHICAL  DOCTRINES  19 

they  could  exist  in  all  States.  >*  He  thouj^ht,  in  fact,  that 
as  Philosophy  is  the  guide  of  private  life,  elevating  it  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  true  and  the  good,  so  it  was  seated, 
likewise,  on  the  throne  of  government,  and  exhibited  the 
eternal  ideas  of  social  good  and  truth, — modifying  society 
after  their  pattern;  and  hence  is  it,  that  (as  Aristotle 
observes  in  the  second  Book  of  his  Politics,  ch.  2)  Plato 
overlooks  impossibilities  in  his  arrangements,  and  sacri- 
fices all  to  the  one  great  object  of  sketching  the  idea  of 
GOOD  AS  A  SOCIAL  PRINCIPLE,  apart  from  the  evil  influ- 
ences of  society. 

We  shall  now  proceed  to  describe  at  some  length  the 
subject-matter  of  the  Republic;  and  we  shall  just  remark, 
that  if  the  work  itself  had  been  more  studied,  there  would 
have  been  far  less  difference  of  opinion  respecting  the 
nature  and  object  of  this  Dialogue.  In  fact,  no  exposi- 
tion or  theory  can  explain  Plato,  who  is,  above  all  others, 
a  writer  to  be  studied  in  his  own  works ;  and  his  charac- 
ter as  a  writer  and  philosopher  would  have  been  far 
higher  in  general  estimation  at  the  present  day,  if  there 
had  been  fewer  to  pronounce  sentence  on  him  without 
having  read  a  single  syllable  of  his  writings. 

The  Republic  of  Plato  is  a  development  of  the  anal-  . 

OGY  between    the    IDEAS    OF    THE    PERFECT    MAN    AND  THE. 

PERFECT  State, — the  two  principles  being  elaborated 
throughout  the  Dialogue,  in  perfect  harmony  and  mutual 
dependence  on  each  other.  He  exhibits,  indeed,  the  im- 
age of  perfect  and  consummate  virtue,  such  as  ought  to 
be  seen  in  the  whole  life  of  man,  whether  in  his  private 
capacity  simply,  as  a  sentient  and  moral  agent,  or  in  his 
public  position  as  the  member  of  a  State.  As  man,  more- 
over, has  certain  special  social  relations  and  social  func- 
tions, he  considers  him  also  collectively,  as  part  of  a 
State,  and  is  hence  led  to  inquire  into  the  best  or  pattern 
form  of  a  State, —  a  proceeding  quite  in  unison  with  the 
custom  of  the  Greeks,  who  treated  Politics  rather  as  a 
branch  of  Ethics  than  a  separate  science.  This  Dialogue, 
therefore, —  one  of  that  splendid  group  of  which  the 
Timaeus,  the  Critias,  and  the  Laws  are  the  other  mem- 
bers,—  comprises  two  subjects  constantly  connected  and 
cohering, —  the  contemplation  of  the  perfectly  good  man, 


20 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


composed  of  body  and  soul  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the 
other  the  perfectly  good  State,  composed  of  many  mem- 
bers in  different  classes,  performing  their  respective  func- 
tions. Justice,  then, — the  principle, '  cause,  and  uniting 
bond  of  all  the  other  virtues,  —  one,  too,  that  is  essen- 
tially of  a  political  character  —  forms  a  very  suitable  dis- 
j  cussion  by  way  of  introduction  to  this  Dialogue.  The 
refutation  of  incorrect  or  inadequate  definitions  of  this 
virtue,  occupies  a  large  portion  of  the  first  Book;  and 
Socrates  (the  hero  of  this,  as  of  most  other  of  the  Platonic 
Dialogues)  then  proceeds,  with  the  view  of  educing  some 
abstract  definition  of  justice,  to  explain  his  notion  of  a 
perfect  State,  as  one  in  which  all  ranks  of  its  members 
accurately  fulfill  their  respective  functions,  dwelling 
together  in  harmony. 

Commencing  with  the  consideration  of  Virtue  (which 
consists  in  the  harmonious  cultivation  of  the  different  in- 
tellectual and  moral  faculties),  he  opens  the  inquiry  with 
a  kind  of  analysis  of  the  human  mind,  which  he  divides 
into  three  parts:  first,  the  rational  or  reasoning  prin- 
ciple, (to  XoyiaiKov) ;  secondly,  the  spirit  or  will  (to 
^ufiiKov  or  ^ufiosids?) ;  and  thirdly,  the  appetite  or 
PASSION  (rd  l-Kcdu/irjziKov) ,  —  which  last,  however,  indi- 
cates nothing  beyond  that  vital  impulse  which  leads  from 
one  sensation  to  another.  Of  these  faculties  the  most 
excellent  is  Reason,  whose  proper  province  is  to  direct 
and  control  the  other  faculties;  and  of  the  operations  of 
this  faculty  Plato  foiTns  several  divisions  ( at  the  close  of 
the  sixth  Book),  according  as  the  ideas  are  abstract, 
mixed,  or  material, —  the  v6rjffi<;  constituting  the  knowl- 
edge of  pure  ideas,  the  diduoca  that  of  mixed  ideas,  -j^taTCi 
that  of  actually  existing  materials  and  their  affections, 
and  ekaffta  the  knowledge  of  the  images  or  shadows  of 
bodies, — these  divisions  including  —  first,  i-KiffTij/irj  (true 
science),  and   secondly,  opinion    true  or  false  (S6^a).* 

*  Plato's  system  of  Ideas  (clSri)  consists,  strictly  speaking,  of  what 
we  now  term  generalization  and  abstraction, —  the  main  part  of  the  defi- 
nition REAL;  and  he  seems  to  have  constructed  his  theory  as  a  mean 
between  the  Heraclitean  doctrine  of  a  perpetual  flux,  modified  into  the 
notion  of  Protagoras,  -Trdiruv  fierpov  avOpunoc,  (which  set  up  yiyveadac  in- 
stead of  dfai),  and  the  Eleatic  doctrine  that  all  is  one,  without  multi- 
plicity, change,  augmentation,  or  decay.     He  was  convinced  of  the 


PLATO'S  ETHICAL  DOCTRINES 


21 


So  much  for  Reason  (ro  XoytffTtKov).  Now, —  inter- 
mediate between  Reason  and  Passion  {rd  ir.i0uiJ.riTu6v)  is 
the  Will  or  Spirit,  which  should  be  an  assistant  to  Reason 
{iT:iKoup()v  uv  tu>  M>ytaTtKm  (puasi)  in  the  pursuit  of  virtue, 
and  should  oppose  the  indulgence  of  base  desires, — all 
desires  being  legitimately  under  the  control  of  the 
Reason  and  the  Will.  Furthermore, — from  the  exercise 
and  combination  of  these  three  faculties  there  are  gener- 
ated four  principal  or  cardinal  virtues:  i.  Prudence  or 
Wisdom  (^povrjm^) ;  2.  Courage  or  Fortitude  (di'dpsia),  by 
which  Plato  means  the  maintenance  of  right  opinion  as 
to  what  is  and  is  not  to  be  feared  (~s/5i  ra>v  dscvaiv), 
i.  c.  as  to  good  and  evil ;  3.  Temperance  or  Self-con- 
trol (awi,po(Tuvri) ;  and  4.  Justice  (Smaioauvri)^  which,  with 
Plato,  does  not  simply  mean  the  virtue  of  rendering  to 
all  their  due,  but  stands  for  that  harmonious  and  pro- 
portional development  of  the  inner  man,  by  means  of 
which  each  faculty  of  his  soul  performs  its  own  functions 
without  interfering  with  the  others.  Just  or  virtuous 
actions,  then,  says  he,  consist  in  the  performance  of 
actions  agreeable  to  the  nature  of  the  soul,  whereas  the 
contrary  comprise  such  as  are  discordant  to  a  right  nature, 
and  productive  of  mental  disturbance  and  agitation.  In  the 
realization  of  this  Justice,  in  short,  consists  Virtue  itself, 
which  Plato  defines  to  be  "  a  certain  health  and  beauty 
and  good  habit  of  the  soul,"  exercising  the  nobler  parts 
of  our  nature  in  the  contemplation  of  philosophy  and 
more  particularly  the  sMmmum  bonum  (ro  ayadov)^  the 
practical  realization  of  which  should  be  the  chief  aim  of 
the  State  constituted  in  the  soul. 

The  man,  then,  who  studies  to  produce  this  harmony 
in  the  mental  faculties,  is  truly  consistent  with  himself, — 

reality  both  of  the  permanent  being  or  genus  {ovaia)  and  of  the  mutable 
yheciLq  of  the  phenomena:  the  science  that  contemplates  these  general 
terms  is  called  7  Sialen-LKri  —  Dialectics.  These  ideas  are  recognized  by 
the  vdrjci^  and  diavoia  —  not  by  the  senses ;  and  as  they  belong  to  ovaia,  they 
become  the  objects  of  true  science  or  certain  knowledge.  Everything  of 
this  kind  is  an  uSog,  or  general  term,  or  quiddity.  He  thought,  more- 
over, that  there  was  a  supreme  standard  Idea—  God  —  in  which  were 
comprised  all  other  subordinate  Ideas,  and  which  contained  nothing 
whatever  capable  of  being  apprehended  by  the  senses.  This  is  not 
exactly  but  nearly  the  view  taken  by  Ritter,  ii.  264-270. 


22 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


truly  entitled  to    the  appellation  —  nouatKoi  and  woAtr/c^?, 

—  by  which  he  means  far  more  than  is  conveyed  by  the 
modern  terms,  musician  and  politician.  So  great,  indeed, 
is  the  power  and  influence  of  virtue  that,  without  it,  there 
can  be  neither  true  happiness  nor  mental  tranquillity, — 
all  else  of  the  nature  of  pleasure  being  mere  shadow  and 
inanity  [kirKiaypa^r^iiiv^  Tf'?).  Now,  with  respect  to  Pleas- 
ure, each  mental  faculty  has  its  own  peculiar  species, 

—  the  highest  as  well  as  purest  of  all  being  exclusively 
enjoyed  by  the  philosopher,  through  the  exercise  of 
wisdom;*  and  those  who  cultivate  wisdom  and  virtue  are 
to  be  deemed  happy,  even  in  the  midst  of  misfortune, 
and  when  it  has  no  probability  of  proper  reward.  It  is  to 
be  cultivated,  indeed,  on  its  own  intrinsic  merits,  without 
any  regard  for  expediency  —  any  hope  of  reward.  At  the 
same  time,  however,  it  is  quite  apparent  that  good  men 
are  praised,  loved,  and  honored,  while  the  unjust  are 
eventually  exposed  and  punished;  nay,  even  by  the 
Deity,  good  and  just  men  are  not  neglected,  for  God  loves 
and  rewards  those  who  practice  virtue  and  seek  to  re- 
semble Him.  Independently  of  this,  too,  Plato  derives 
another  motive  to  virtue  from  the  immortality  of  the 
soul, —  viz.,  that,  if  we  be  not  justly  and  adequately 
compensated  in  this  life,  we  shall  meet  with  perfect  and 
unswerving  justice,  when  arraigned  before  the  judgment- 
seat  of  God. 

Having  thus  far  explained  Plato's  notions  respecting 
Man's  character  individually,  and  respecting  the  dignity 
and  excellence  of  Virtue  —  and  of  Justice  in  particular  — 
that  union  and  consummation  of  all  the  other  virtues, — 
we  now  proceed  to  show,  how  he  applied  these  principles 
to  the  formation  of  his  ideal  and  perfect  Commonwealth 
{voXnsia),  which  he  thought  to  be  analogous  to,  and  a 

*  The  relation  which,  according  to  Plato,  subsists  between  knowledge 
and  pure  pleasure,  seems  to  be  in  general  of  the  following  nature :  In 
the  gradual  growth  of  the  human  consciousness,  pleasure  is  necessarily- 
combined  with  cognition, — so  however,  as  that  at  one  time  pleasure,  at 
another  cognition, is  the  dominant  and  determining  element.  In  the 
former  case,  the  pleasure  is  impure  and  immoderate,  while  in  the  latter 
a  pure  pleasure  arises,  measured  by  the  truth  of  Ideas.  To  avoid  the 
former  and  pursue  the  latter,  ought,  therefore,  to  be  the  object  of  a 
truly  intellectual  life. — Ritter.  ii.  p.  398. 


PLATO'S  ETHICAL  DOCTRINES 


23 


sort  of  exhibition  (napaSetyfia)  of,  a  good  and  virtuous  man. 
Some  few  incidental  remarks  occur  on  the  formation  of 
society  for  mutual  aid  and  support;  and  he  then  proceeds 
to  classify  the  members  or  parts  of  his  ideal  Republics. 

These  he  classes  under  three  heads  or  divisions,  corre- 
sponding with  the  faculties  of  the  soul, — viz.,  i.  the 
jSouhurcKuv  (counsellors),  those  who  employ  reason  in 
the  contemplation  of  what  best  suits  the  State;  2.  the 
imKoupcKov, —  those  who  aid  the  ^ouXeurai  with  a  ready  will; 
3.  the  xprjfiaTtaTtKov,  who  are  bent  on  gain  and  selfish  grati- 
fication. Reason  alone  is,  according  to  Plato,  entitled  to 
and  capacitated  for  the  supreme  government  (just  as  reason 
is  the  monarch  of  the  properly  energizing  mind),  to  the 
total  exclusion  of  the  commonalty  [xpyjuaTtaTat),  who  are  to- 
tally unacquainted  with  wisdom  or  philosophy.  The  mili- 
tary class  or  executive,  however,  (t^  iiziKoupmov),  who  are  to 
be  the  active  guardians  {(j>ukaKe<;)  of  the  State,  he  requires 
to  be  properly  taught  and  disciplined,  so  that,  while  obey- 
ing the  counsellors,  they  may  protect  the  State  from  both 
internal  and  external  danger.  As  these  guardians,  there- 
fore, are  necessarily  to  be  chosen  from  the  better  class  of 
the  citizens,  they  should  be  of  a  philosophic  turn,  of  an 
active  will,  and  of  a  stern  determination. 

As  respects  the  training  of  the  military  class,  that  must 
be  effected  by  a  thorough  discipline, —  first,  in  Gymnastics, 
which  includes  every  exercise  and  training  of  the  body, 
whether  patience  under  hardships,  or  endurance  of  hunger 
and  thirst  —  cold  or  heat;  and  likewise  dancing,  all  being 
practiced  not  only  to  invigorate  the  body,  but  to  strengthen 
the  spirit  and  maintain  the  entire  man  —  the  passions,  in 
particular  —  in  subjection  to  reason;  and  secondly,  in 
Music,*  which  Plato  held  to  compromise  all  imaginative 
art,  the  ordinary  instruction  in  grammar,  and  also  science 
itself,  all  of  which  contribute  to  elevate  and  enlarge  the 

*  These  accomplishments,  however,  he  wished  to  restrain  within  due 
bounds,  lest  their  simplicity  should  become  luxurious,  and  lest  they 
should  become  incentives  to  passion  and  vice.  Poetry,  in  particular,  he 
desires  to  restrain,  dreading  its  evil  influence  on  the  moral  habits;  and 
he  almost  wishes  the  expulsion  of  poets  from  his  ideal  State.  He  looks 
upon  poetry,  indeed,  as  a  mere  art  of  imitation,  little  better  than  mere 
illusion  and  childishness;  useful,  perhaps,  for  education,  but  to  be 
placed,  for  fear  of  abuse,  under  the  strictest  surveillance. 


24 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


mind,  protecting  it,  at  the  same  time,  from  all  that  mili- 
tates against  virtue.  More  particularly,  the  <l>uXaK£<}  must  be 
kept  free  from  all  ambition  and  avarice,  which  are  un- 
questionable obstacles  to  the  proper  performance  of  their 
civic  functions.  From  these  <t>oXaKi<;  the  chief  rulers  and 
counsellors  of  the  State  (^uuXeurai)  are  to  be  chosen;  to  be 
chosen,  too,  for  their  general  fitness  and  estimation :  and 
those  only  should  be  placed  in  charge,  who  are  endowed 
with  high  talent,  and  have  all  along  maintained  a  life  of 
virtue,  superior  to  that  of  the  other  citizens.  Furthermore, 
in  the  same  way  as  human  life  can  only  attain  to  its  high- 
est happiness,  under  the  guidance  of  reason  conducting  it 
to  the  highest  good, —  so  also,  a  State  can  only  attain  to 
consummate  virtue  and  prosperity,  when  its  rulers  apply 
themselves  to  the  investigation  of  eternal  truth  and  the 
contemplation  of  the  highest  good.  Hence  it  is,  that 
Plato  says,  the  rulers  must  be  philosophers, — not,  indeed, 
necessarily  occupied  in  subtle  disputations  on  general  sub- 
jects of  investigation,  but  rather  engaged  in  contemplating 
the  eternal  ideas  of  things  —  truth  itself;  and  they  must 
not  only  admire  the  beauty  of  virtue,  but  earnestly  seek 
the  individual  cultivation  of  it,  and  teach  it  to  others  also* 
by  the  exhibition  of  its  development  in  their  own  persons. 

Virtue,  again,  whether  exercised  by  individuals  or  in 
communities,  is  one  and  the  same,f  comprising,  however, 
four  parts:  first,  Wisdom,  the  essential  qualification  of 
rulers;  ,secondly.  Courage,  the  property  of  the  military 
class  who  defend  the  State;  thirdly,  Temperance,  the 
distinctive  quality  of  a  well-ordered  and  obedient  common- 
alty; and,  fourthly,  Justice,  by  virtue  of  which  each 
particular  class  or  individual  energizes  in  his  own  sphere, 
without  encroaching  on  that  of  his  neighbors.    The  pure 

♦Virtue,  according  to  Plato,  in  the  Meno  and  Protagoras,  may  be 
learned,  so  far  as  it  rests  on  science,  in  the  same  sense  as  science  itself  is 
teachable, —  z.  e.,  originally  and  naturally  it  dwells  potentially  in  the 
soul;  and  for  the  right  attainment  of  virtue,  nothing  more  is  requisite 
than  a  fitting  direction  of  the  mind,  leading  man  to  qontemplate  the 
good  through  the  medium  of  reflection  and  memory. 

t  The  question,  whether  virtue  is  one  or  many  (often  raised  without 
receiving  any  decisive  solution),  is  connected  with  the  more  general 
one,  whether  the  one  (to  cv)  can  be  manifold  or  the  manifold  one. 
From  the  Dialectic,  it  must  be  clear,  that  on  this  point  Plato  came  to  the 


PLATO'S  ETHICAL  DOCTRINES 


25 


exercise  of  virtue,  however,  is  exceedingly  rare,  either  in 
States  or  individuals;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  errors  and 
defects  are  constantly  observable  and  ever  likely  to  inter- 
fere with  correct  action.  Hence,  applying  this  remark 
to  Politics,  our  pattern  State  [apisTOKparia)  will  insensibly 
become  vitiated;   sinking-  first  into  ntiafr/^ia,  and  thence 

into  SXtyapxia,  drj/ioKparta^   and  lastly  downright  rupawi?^  the 

worst  possible  mode  of  social  tmion.  No  wonder,  for  if 
we  compare  them  with  the  state  of  the  human  soul  when 
reason  is  on  her  throne,  and  also  when  she  is  dethroned 
by  the  passions,  we  discover  between  them  a  close  analogy. 
From  the  dominance  of  the  will  over  reason  we  realize 
the  idea  of  Ambition  ;  and  this  seems  nearly  allied  to  the 
reiiapxta  of  the  Cretans  and  Spartans  (which  Plato  greatly 
preferred  to  the  democracy  of  Athens) ;  again,  when 
rein  is  given  to  the  appetite,  still  other  and  greater  evils 
arise,  and  among  others.  Avarice,  which  bears  a  close 
analogy  to  dXcyapxt'a;  thirdly,  when  the  passions  are 
freely  indulged,  and  in  a  base  manner,  without  regard 
to  order  or  decency,  we  have  before  us  8rj;j.oi<paT{a  or  mob- 
rule  ;  and  lastly,  when  any  one  passion  or  violent  emotion 
exercises  sway  to  the  exclusion  of  all  the  more  generous 
feelings  of  our  nature,  we  have  an  exact  picture  of 
Tupavvi'S,  which  is  the  worst  species  of  government,  and 
furtbest  of  all  removed  from  political  perfection. 

To  return  to  our  pattern  State :  it  must  have  the  prin- 
ciple of  permanence  in  healthy  operation ;  and  this  is 
best  effected  by  harmony,  or,  as  it  were,  unity  of  action 
in  all  the  members,  just  as  individual  virtue  results  from  the 
harmonious  exercise  of  the  collective  mental  faculties. 
The  various  establishments  in  a  State,  therefore,  must 

conclusion  that  virtue  must  both  be  regarded  as  one,  and  in  another 
respect  also  as  many.  In  a  moral  point  of  view,  however,  this  question 
of  the  unity  of  virtue  must  be  taken  in  quite  another  sense,  for  as  all 
good  is  conside,red  as  a  due  measure  and  proportion,  no  single  virtue, 
by  itself  and  apart  from  the  rest,  can  be  truly  virtuous.  Hence  Plato 
often  describes  some  single  virtue  as  comprising  in  itself  the  sum  of  all 
virtues.  Thus,  Justice  is  often  used  for  virtue  in  general,  because  no 
action,  which  is  not  also  just,  can  be  virtuous ;  and  similarly  with 
wisdom,  temperance,  and  valor.  In  the  Protagoras,  too,  Plato  adds  a 
fifth  virtue  —  oaidrric,  or  piety,  and  in  the  Republic  he  mentions  liber- 
ality and  magnanimity. 


26 


GENERAL  INTRODUCTION 


so  cohere  and  harmonize,  as  mutually  to  aid  each  other; 
and  the  most  anxious  pains  must  be  taken  to  protect  the 
State  from  all  influences  likely  to  deteriorate  good  morals 
and  impair  the  authority  of  the  government.  To  this 
end,  then,  care  must  be  observed,  that  no  innovations 
be  introduced  in  the  training  of  youth  in  Gymnastics 
and  Music;  for  such  innovations,  says  this  ancient  Con- 
servative, have  an  insiduous  and  destructive  tendency. 
The  affairs  of  domestic  life,  also,  must  be  so  regulated, 
that  no  base  desires  shall  invade  and  disturb  the  State; 
and  to  promote  this  object,  as  well  as  to  show  that  the 
defenders  of  the  State  should  consider  not  so  much  their 
own  individual  existence,  or  their  own  gratifications,  as 
their  inseparable  connection  and  membership  with  the 
whole  State,  to  the  welfare  of  which  the  individual  man 
is  ever  subordinate;  on  this  principle  must  be  explained 
those  strange  views  of  the  community  of  wives  and  chil- 
dren, that  have  always  excited  the  astonishment  of  those 
not  fully  acquainted  with  the  moral  ends  of  the  Repub- 
lic. Individuals  are,  according  to  this  philosopher,  mem- 
bers of,  and  to  be  merged  in,  the  State ;  and  hence  he 
suggests  also,  that  even  the  women  should  tmdergo  the 
same  kind  of  training  with  the  young  men,  as  they  have 
their  respective  aptitudes.  Thus  is  a  State  to  be  main- 
tained in  permanent  health,  free  from  the  incursions  of 
civil  discord.  With  whatever  ability,  however,  a  State 
may  be  formed,  it  cannot  be  permanently  prosperous 
without  the  constant  and  active  exercise  of  virtue;  and 
just  in  proportion  as  sin  entails  misery  and  virtue  hap- 
piness, so,  likewise.  Tyranny  produces  disorder  and 
wretchedness;  while  Aristocracy,  i.  e.,  Plato's  best  form 
of  government,  will  not  fail  to  exalt  the  State  and  its 
.several  members  to  the  pinnacle  of  civil  happiness  and 
prosperity. 

We  have  thus  briefly  sketched  the  general  and  ethical 
system  of  Plato's  Philosophy,  as  well  as  given  a  general 
survey  of  the  subject-matter  of  the  Republic;  and  it  is 
presumed  that  the  student  will  now  be  enabled  to  take  up 
the  writings  of  Plato  with  improved  facilities,  and  a  far 
greater  probability  of  getting  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
the  notions  of  that  great  philosopher. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO. 


BOOK  I. 


ARGUMENT. 


The  first  Book  opens  with  a  pleasant  and  highly  dramatic  dialogue, 
in  the  course  of  which  the  happy  old  Cephalus  (a  kind  of  Maecenas  on 
a  small  scale)  sings  the  praises  of  an  independent  old  age,  free  from 
anxiety  and  debt ;  and  this  leads  Socrates  to  introduce  the  discussion 
of  justice,  which,  by  way  of  provoking  inquiry,  he  first  generally  de- 
fines, as  rd  aXrjdfj  re  Xsyeiv  mi,  d  av  Adfioj  rif,  a.Kodt66vai.  The  more 
complete  definition,  however,  he  first  attempts  by  the  negative 
process,  purposely  selecting  two  species  of  (false  or  inadequate)  justice 
to  be  refuted, —  thus  to  make  way  for  the  basis  of  a  full  and  true  defi- 
nition. He  then  proceeds  to  consider  the  constituents  of  a  state  — 
magistrates  and  subjects;  the  former  of  whom  he  cautions  against 
tyranny  —  the  latter  against  indecent  insubordination;  insomuch  as 
neither  the  one  party  should  have  reference  to  his  own  private  advan- 
tage only,  nor  should  the  others  live  without  care  for  the  general  ad- 
vantage of  the  state,  nor  without  a  due  regard  for  honest,  upright 
principle. 


[The  whole  is  in  the  form  of  a  narrative  related  by  Socrates 
IN  the  presence  of  Tim^us,  Critias,  Hermocrates,  and  another 

OF  UNKNOWN  NAME.  ThE  SCENE  IS  IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  CePHALUS  AT 
THE  PlR^US.] 

Chapter  I.  I  went  down  yesterday  to  the  Piraeus,  with 
Glaucon,*  son  of  Ariston,  to  pay  my  devotion  to  the  god- 
dess,—  and  wishing,  at  the  same  time,  to  observe  in  what 

*  Glaucon  and  Adimantus  were  the  brothers  of  Plato.  Comp.  Xen. 
Mem.  iii.  6. 


SOCRATES, 
CEPHALUS, 
GLAUCON. 


ADIMANTUS; 

POLEMARCHUS, 

THRASYMACHUS. 


(  27) 


28 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


manner  they  would  celebrate  the  festival,  as  they  were 
now  to  do  so  for  the  first  time.*  The  procession  of  the 
natives  themselves,  indeed,  seemed  beautiful ;  yet  that 
which  the  Thracians  conducted  appeared  not  less  elegant. 
After  we  had  paid  our  devotions,  and  seen  the  solemnity, 
we  were  going  back  to  the  city,  when  Polemarchus,  son  of 
Cephalus,  observing  us  from  a  distance,  hurrying  home, 
bid  his  boy  run  and  tell  us  to  wait  for  him ;  and  the  boy 
taking  hold  of  my  robe  behind,  said :  Polemarchus  desires 
you  to  wait.  I  turned  then  and  asked,  where  he  was.  He 
is  coming  after  you,  answered  he :  but  pray  wait  for  him. 
Yes,  we  will  wait,  said  Glaucon ;  and  just  afterwards  came 
Polemarchus  and  Adimantus,  the  brother  of  Glaucon,  and 
Niceratus,  son  of  Nicias,f  and  some  others,  as  from  the 
procession.  Then  said  Polemarchus:  Socrates,  you  seem 
to  me  to  be  hurrying  to  the  city,  as  on  your  return.  Aye, 
you  do  not  make  a  bad  guess,  said  I.  See  you,  then,  said 
he,  how  many  we  are  ?  Yes,  of  course.  Well,  then,  said 
he,  you  must  either  prove  yourselves  stronger  than  these, 
or  else  remain  here.  One  expedient,  said  I,  is  still  left; 
namely,  to  persuade  you  that  you  should  let  us  go.  How 
can  you  possibly  persuade  such  as  will  not  hear  ?  By  no 
means,  said  Glaucon.  Make  up  your  mind  then,  that  we 
will  not  hear.  But  know  you  not,  said  Adimantus,  that  in 
the  evening  there  is  to  be  a  torch-race  on  horseback  to  the 
goddess  ?J  On  horseback,  said  I ;  surely,  this  is  a  novelty. 
Are  they  to  have  torches,  and  to  hand  them  to  one  another, 
contending  together  on  horseback ;  or  how  do  you  mean  ? 
Just  so,  replied  Polemarchus.  And  besides,  they  will  per- 
form a  nocturnal  solemnity   well  worth   seeing;  for  we 

*  The  festival  here  alluded  to  is  the  Bevi^ldeta,  in  which  Artemis  or 
Bendis  was  worshiped  agreeably  to  the  custom  of  the  Thracians. 

f  Nicias  was  one  of  the  leading  Athenian  generals  in  the  Peloponne- 
sian  war. 

X  In  the  Panathensean,  Hephsestian,  and  Promethean  festivals,  it 
was  customary  for  young  men  to  run  with  torches  or  lamps  lighted  from 
the  sacrificial  altar;  and  in  this  contest  that  person  only  was  victorious, 
whose  lamp  remained  unextinguished  in  the  race.  We  are  here  forcibly 
reminded  of  the  figure  used  by  Plato  in  the  Laws,  vi.  p.  776  b,  and  also 
of  Lucretius,  ii.  verse  78 : — 

Inque  brevi  spatio  mutantur  strcla  animantum. 
,  Et  quasi  cursores  vita'i  lampada  tradunt. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


29 


shall  rise  after  supper  and  see  it  [the  night  festival],*  and 
shall  be  there  with  many  of  our  young  [friends],  and  have 
a  chat.  Do  you  also  stay  and  do  the  same.  It  is  right,  I 
think,  said  Glaucon,  that  we  should  stay.  Well, — if  you 
please,  said  I,  we  will  so. 

Chap.  II.  We  went  home  therefore  to  Polemarchus's 
[house],  and  there  we  found,  both  Lysias  and  Euthyde- 
mus,  brothers  of  Polemarchus, —  likewise  Thrasymachus 
the  Chalcedonian,  Charmantides  the  Psconeian,  and  Clit- 
ophon  the  son  of  Aristonymus.  Cephalus,  the  father  of 
Polemarchus,  was  likewise  in  the  house;  and  he  seemed 
to  me  to  have  become  a  good  deal  aged,  for  I  had  not 
seen  him  for  a  long  time.  He  was  sitting  crowned  on  a 
cushioned  seat;  for  he  had  been  offering  sacrifice  in  the 
inner  court.  So  we  sat  down  by  him ;  for  some  seats 
stood  there  in  a  circle.  Immediately,  therefore,  on  seeing 
me,  Cephalus  saluted  me,  and  said :  Socrates,  you  do  not 
often  come  down  to  us  to  the  Piraeus,  though  you  ought ; 
for,  could  I  still  easily  go  up  to  the  city,  there  would 
have  been  no  need  for  you  to  come  hither,  but  we  should 
have  gone  up  to  you.  As  it  is,  however,  you  should 
come  hither  more  frequently;  for  be  assured  that  with 
me,  the  more  bodily  pleasures  decay,  the  more  also  do 
the  desires  and  pleasures  of  conversation  increase.  Do 
not  then  fail  us,  but  accompany  these  youths,  and  resort 
hither,  as  to  friends,  and  very  dear  friends  too.  As  for 
me,  Cephalus,  said  I,  I  am  delighted  to  converse  with 
persons  well  advanced  in  years;  for  it  appears  to  me  a 
duty  to  learn  from  them  as  from  persons  who  have  gone 
before  us,  on  a  road  which  we  too  must  necessarily  travel, 
what  kind  of  a  road  it  is, — whether  rough  and  difficult, 
or  level  and  easy.  Moreover,  I  would  gladly  learn  from 
you  (as  you  are  now  at  that  time  of  life  which  the  poets 
call  the  threshold  of  old  age),  what  your  opinion  of  it  is, 

*  By  this  nocturnal  solemnity  are  meant  the  lesser  Panathenaea, 
which  as  the  name  implies,  were  sacred  to  Athena.  As  in  the  greater 
Panathenaea  they  carried  about  the  veil  of  Athena,  on  which  were 
represented  the  giants  vanquished  by  the  Olympian  gods,  so  in  the 
lesser  Panathenaea  another  veil  was  exhibited,  in  which  the  Athenians, 
who  were  the  pupils  of  Athena,  were  represented  victorious  in  the 
battle  against  the  inhabitants  of  the  Atlantic  island. 


3° 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


whether  it  be  a  burdensome  part  of  life,  or  how  you 
describe  it. 

Chap.  III.  By  Zeus!*  said  he,  I  will  tell  you,  Socrates, 
what  I,  for  my  part,  think  of  it;  for  several  of  us,  who 
are  of  the  same  age,  frequently  meet  together  in  the 
same  place,  observing  the  old  proverb.  Most  of  us,  therefore, 
when  we  are  together,  complain  of  missing  the  pleasures  of 
youth,  calling  to  remembrance  the  pleasures  of  love,  those 
of  drinking  and  feasting,  and  such  like;  and  they  are 
mightily  in  dudgeon  as  being  bereaved  of  some  great 
things, —  having  once  lived  happily,  but  now  scarce  living 
at  all.  Some  of  them,  too,  bemoan  the  contempt  which 
old  age  meets  with  from  intimate  friends;  and,  on  this 
account,  they  whine  about  old  age,  as  being  the  cause  of 
so  many  of  their  ills.  To  me,  however,  Socrates,  these 
men  seem  not  to  blame  the  [real]  cause ;  for,  if  this  were 
the  cause,  I  myself  likewise  should  have  suffered  these 
very  same  things  through  old  age, —  and  all  others,  like- 
wise, who  have  come  to  these  years.  Now  I  have  met 
with  several  not  thus  affected;  and  particularly  I  was 
once  in  company  with  Sophocles  the  poet,  when  he  was 
asked  by  some  one :  How,  said  he,  do  you  feel,  Sophocles, 
as  to  the  pleasures  of  love;  are  you  still  able  to  enjoy 
them  ?  Softly,  friend,  replied  he ;  most  gladly,  indeed, 
have  I  escaped  from  these  pleasures,  as  from  some  furious 
and  savage  master.  To  me,  then,  he,  at  that  time, 
seemed  to  speak  well,  and  now  not  less  so:  for,  on  the 
whole,  as  respects  such  things  there  is  in  old  age  great 
peace  and  freedom ;  because,  when  the  appetites  cease  to 
be  vehement  and  have  let  go  their  hold,  what  Sophocles 
said,  most  certainly  happens;  we  are  delivered  from  very 
many,  and  those  too,  furious  masters.  With  relation  to 
these  things,  however,  and  what  concerns  our  intimates, 
there  is  one  and  the  same  cause;  which  is,  not  old  age, 
Socrates,  but  the  disposition  of  [different]  men:  for,  if 
they  be  discreet  and  moderate,  even  old  age  is  but  moder- 

*  The  translator  wishes  it  to  be  understood,  that  in  compliance  with  a 
now  pretty  general  custom,  he  has  preserved  the  Greek  mythological 
names :  Zeus  for  Jupiter,  Athena  for  Minerva,  Poseidon  for  Neptune, 
Artemis  for  Diana,  and  so  on. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


31 


ately  burdensome ;  but  if  not,  Socrates, —  to  such  an  one, 
both  old  age  and  youth  are  grievous. 

Chap.  IV.  Delighted  to  hear  him  say  these  things, 
and  wishing  him  to  discourse  further,  I  urged  him,  and 
said:  I  fancy,  Cephalus,  the  generality  will  not  agree 
with  you  in  these  opinions;  but  will  imagine  that  you 
bear  old  age  easily,  not  owing  to  your  natural  bias,  but 
from  possessing  much  wealth;  for  the  rich,  say  they, 
have  many  consolations.  True,  replied  he,  they  do  not 
agree  with  me ;  and  there  is  something  in  what  they  say, 
yet  not  so  much  as  they  imagine.  The  saying  of  The- 
mistocles,  however,  is  just;  who,  when  the  Seriphian 
reviled  him,  and  said,  that  he  was  honored,  not  on  his 
own  account,  but  on  account  of  his  country,  replied,  that 
neither  would  himself  have  been  renowned,  had  he  been 
a  Seriphian,  nor  would  he,  the  [Seriphian],  had  he  been 
an  Athenian.  To  those  likewise,  who  are  not  rich  and 
bear  old  age  with  impatience,  the  same  saying  fairly 
applies;  that  neither  would  the  worthy  man  bear  old 
age  with  poverty  quite  easily,  nor  would  he  who  is 
unworthy,  though  enriched,  ever  be  agreeable  to  him- 
self. But  [tell  me],  Cephalus,  said  I,  was  the  greater 
part  of  what  you  possess  left  you,  or  did  you  acquire 
it  [  yourself]  ?  Somewhat,  Socrates,  replied  he,  I  have 
acquired :  as  to  money-getting  I  am  in  a  medium  between 
my  grandfather  and  my  father;  for  my  grandfather  of 
the  same  name  with  myself,  who  was  left  almost  as 
much  property  as  I  possess  at  present,  increased  it 
manifold;  while  my  father  Lysanias  made  it  yet  less 
than  it  is  now:  I,  on  the  other  hand,  am  content,  if  I 
can  leave  my  sons  here  not  less,  but  some  little  more 
than  I  received.  I  asked  you,  said  I,  for  this  reason,  — 
because  you  seem  to  me  to  have  no  excessive  love  for 
riches;  and  this  is  generally  the  case  with  those  who 
have  not  acquired  them;  while  those  who  have  acquired 
them  [themselves]  are  doubly  fond  of  them:  for,  as 
poets  love  their  own  poems,  and  as  parents  love  their 
own  children,  — in  the  same  manner,  too,  those  who 
have  enriched  themselves,  value  their  wealth,  as 
their    own  production,   as   well    as    for    its    utility,  — 


32 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


on  which  ground  it  is  valued  by  others.  True,  re- 
plied he. 

Chap.  V.  Aye,  entirely  so,  said  I.  But  further,  tell 
me  this;  what  do  you  conceive  to  be  the  greatest  good 
realized  through  the  possession  of  extensive  property  ? 
That,  probably,  said  he,  of  which  I  shall  not  persuade 
the  generality,  were  I  even  to  mention  it.  For,  be  assured, 
Socrates,  continued  he,  that,  after  a  man  begins  to  think 
he  is  soon  to  die,  he  becomes  inspired  with  a  fear  and 
concern  about  things,  that  had  not  entered  his  head  before : 
for  those  stories  concerning  a  future  state,  which  tell  us, 
that  the  man  who  has  been  unjust  here  must  be  punished 
hereafter,  have  a  tendency,  much  as  he  formerly  ridiculed 
them,  to  trouble  his  soul  at  such  a  time  with  apprehen- 
sions, that  they  may  be  true ;  and  the  man,  either  through 
the  infirmity  of  old  age,  or  being  now,  as  it  were,  in  closer 
proximity  to  them,  views  them  more  attentively,  and  con- 
sequently becomes  full  of  suspicion  and  dread,  and  reflects 
and  considers  whether  he  has  in  any  thing  done  anyone 
a  wrong.  That  man,  then,  who  discovers  in  his  own  life 
much  of  iniquity,  and,  like  children,  constantly  starting 
in  his  sleep,  is  full  of  terrors,  and  lives  on  with  scarce  a 
hope  of  the  future.  But  with  the  man  who  is  not  con- 
scious of  any  such  iniquity, 

Hope,  the  solace  of  old  age, 
Is  ever  present, 

As  Pindar  says:  for  this,  Socrates,  he  has  beautifully 
expressed,  that  whoever  lives  a  life  of  justice  and  holi- 
ness. 

With  him  to  cheer  his  heart,  the  nurse  of  age. 
Sweet  hope  abides,  companion  blest,  that  sways 
With  power  supreme  the  changeful  mind  of  man. 

In  this  he  speaks  well,  and  with  great  elegance.  In  con- 
formity with  this  thought,  therefore,  I  deem  the  posses- 
sion of  riches  to  be  chiefly  valuable,  not  to  every  man 
indeed,  but  to  the  man  of  worth:  for  as  respects  liberat- 
ing us  from  the  temptation  of  cheating  or  deceiving  against 
our  will, — or  again  from  departing  thither  in  fear,  because 
we  owe  either  sacrifices  to  God,  or  money  to  man, —  for 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


33 


this,  indeed,  the  possession  of  money  has  great  advantages. 
It  has  many  others  also;  but  for  my  part,  Socrates,  that 
seems  not  the  least,  among  all  others,  which  proves  its 
high  advantage  to  a  man  of  understanding. 

You  speak  admirably,  Cephalus,  replied  I :  but  this 
very  thing.  Justice,  —  shall  we  call  it  Truth,  simply, 
and  the  restoring  what  one  has  received  from  another, 
—  or  shall  we  say  that  it  is  possible  to  do  the  very  same 
things  at  one  time  justly  and  at  another  unjustly  ?  My 
meaning  is  somewhat  as  follows:  Every  one  would 
probably  be  of  opinion,  that  if  a  man  received  arms 
from  a  friend  in  sound  mind,  and  that  person  should 
demand  them  back  when  mad,  it  would  not  be  proper 
to  restore  such  articles,  nor  would  the  restorer  be  just; 
nor  again  [would  he],  who,  to  a  man  so  situated,  should 
willingly  tell  the  whole  truth.  Right,  replied  he.  This, 
then,  is  not  the  definition  of  justice,  [namely],  to  speak 
the  truth,  and  restore  what  one  has  received.  Of  course 
it  is,  Socrates,  replied  Polemarchus,  taking  up  the  sub- 
ject, if  at  least  we  are  to  believe  Simonides.  However 
that  be,  said  Cephalus,  I  leave  this  conversation  to  you; 
for  I  must  now  go  to  attend  to  the  sacred  rites.  Well, 
then,  is  not  Polemarchus,  said  I,  the  heir  of  your  [argu- 
ment] ?  Certainly,  replied  he,  smiling,  and  went  off  to 
the  sacred  rites. 

Chap.  VI.  Tell  me,  then,  said  I,  you  who  are  heir 
in  the  conversation,  what  is  it,  that  you  affirm  Simonides 
to  have  correctly  alleged  about  justice  ?  That  to  restore 
to  each  his  due  is  just,  replied  he :  in  saying  this,  he 
seems,  to  me,  at  least,  to  speak  correctly.  Aye,  indeed, 
said  I,  we  cannot  easily  discredit  Simonides;  for  he  is  a 
wise  and  divine  man:  but  as  to  his  meaning  in  this 
passage,  you,  Polemarchus,  are  probably  acquainted  with 
it,  but  I  am  not;  for  it  is  plain  he  does  not  mean  what 
we  were  saying  just  now, —  that,  when  one  has  deposited 
any  thing  with  us,  we  should  return  it  to  him,  even  if 
he  demand  it  in  his  insanity:  and  yet  the  thing  deposited 
is  in  some  sense  due,  is  it  not  ?  It  is.  At  least,  then, 
[you  will  grant]  it  must  on  no  account  whatever  be 
restored,  when  a  man  asks  for  it  in  his  insanity  ?  True, 
3 


34 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


replied  he.  Simonides,  then,  it  would  seem,  has  some 
other  meaning  than  this,  in  saying  that  to  deliver  up 
what  is  due  is  just  ?  Yes, — one  quite  different,  replied 
he :  for  he  is  of  opinion  that  friends  ought  to  do  their 
friends  good  —  not  ill.  I  understand,  said  I;  that  man 
does  not  give  back  what  is  due,  who  restores  money- 
deposited  with  him,  if  the  repayment  and  receipt  be 
really  hurtful,  and  the  receiver  and  restorer  be  friends: 
is  not  this  what  you  allege  Simonides  to  say?  Surely. 
What  then  ?  are  we  to  give  our  enemies,  also,  what 
may  chance  to  be  their  due  ?  By  all  means,  said  he, 
what  is  really  due  to  them ;  and  from  an  enemy  to  an 
enemy,  there  is  due,  I  imagine,  what  is  fitting  too, — 
namely,  some  evil. 

Chap.  VII.  Simonides,  then,  it  would  seem,  replied 
I,  defined  the  nature  of  justice  somewhat  enigmatically, 
and  after  the  manner  of  the  poets;  for  it  seems  he  had 
a  notion,  that  justice  consists  in  giving  every  one  what 
was  expedient  for  him;  and  this  he  called  his  due.  But 
what  is  your  opinion  ?  said  he.  By  Zeus,  replied  I,  if 
any  one,  then,  should  ask  him  thus, —  Simonides,  what 
is  the  art,  which,  dispensing  to  certain  persons  something 
fitting  and  due,  is  called  medicine,  what,  think  you,  would 
he  answer  us  ?  That  art,  surely,  replied  he,  which  dis- 
penses drugs  to  the  body,  and  also  meats  and  drinks. 
And  what  is  the  art,  which,  dispensing  to  certain  things 
something  fitting  and  due,  is  called  cookery  ?  The  art 
which  gives  seasonings  to  victuals.  Granted.  What,  then, 
is  that  art,  which  may  be  called  justice,  as  dispensing 
to  certain  persons  something  fitting  and  due  ?  If  we  ought 
to  be  at  all  directed,  Socrates,  by  what  has  been  said 
above  [it  is],  the  art  which  dispenses  good  offices  to  friends, 
and  injuries  to  enemies.  To  do  good,  then,  to  friends, 
and  ill  to  enemies,  he  calls  justice  ?  It  seems  so.  Who, 
then,  can  best  serve  his  friends,  when  they  are  sick,  and 
most  ill  to  his  enemies,  as  either  in  sickness  or  health  ? 
A  physician.  And  who  to  those  at  sea,  as  respects  danger 
on  the  sea  ?  A  pilot.  But  what  as  to  the  just  man  ?  In 
what  business,  and  with  respect  to  what  action,  can  he 
most  serve  his  friends  and  harm  his  foes  ?    In  fighting 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


35 


in  alliance  with  the  one,  and  against  the  other, —  so  far 
as  I  think.  Just  so;  but  at  any  rate,  to  those  who  are 
not  sick,  Polemarchus,  the  physician  is  useless  ?  Aye. 
And  the  pilot,  to  those  who  do  not  sail  ?  He  is.  And  is  the 
just  man,  in  like  manner,  useless  to  those  not  engaged 
in  war  ?  This,  at  any  rate,  is  not  at  all  my  opinion.  Is 
justice,  then,  useful  also  in  time  of  peace?  Yes,  useful, 
too.  And  so  is  agriculture,  is  it  not  ?  Yes.  Towards 
the  getting  in  of  crops  ?  Yes.  And  is  not  shoemaking 
useful  too  ?  Yes.  Towards  the  possession  of  shoes  methinks 
you  will  say  ?  Certainly.  But  what  then  ?  For  the  use 
or  possession  of  what  is  it,  that  would  you  say  justice 
were  useful  in  time  of  peace  ?  For  contracts,  Socrates  ! 
By  these  contracts  do  you  mean  copartnerships,  or  what 
else  ?  Copartnerships,  certainly.  Well,  then,  is  the  just 
man  or  the  dice  player,  a  good  and  useful  copartner  for 
playing  at  dice  ?  The  dice  player.  But,  in  the  laying  of 
tiles  or  stones,  is  the  just  man  a  more  useful  and  a  bet- 
ter partner  than  the  builder  ?  By  no  means.  In  what 
copartnership,  then,  is  the  just  man  a  better  copartner 
than  the  harper,  as  the  harper  is  better  than  the  just 
man  for  touching  the  strings  of  a  harp  ?  In  one  about 
money,  as  I  imagine.  And  yet  perhaps,  with  regard  to 
the  use  of  money,  Polemarchus,  when  it  is  necessary 
jointly  to  buy  or  sell  a  horse,  then,  I  should  think,  the 
jockey  is  the  better  copartner,  is  he  not  ?  He  would  appear 
so.  And  with  respect  to  a  ship,  the  shipwright  or  pilot  ? 
It  seems  so.  When  is  it,  then,  with  respect  to  the  joint 
application  of  money,  that  the  just  man  is  more  useful 
than  others  ?  When  it  is  to  be  deposited  and  be  safe, 
Socrates  !  Do  you  not  mean  when  there  is  no  need  to 
use  it,  but  to  leave  it  on  deposit  ?  Certainly.  When 
money,  then,  is  useless,  justice  is  still  useful  with  regard 
to  it  ?  It  seems  likely.  When,  therefore,  one  wants  to 
put  by  a  pruning  hook,  justice  is  useful,  both  for  a  com- 
munity and  for  a  particular  person;  but  when  one  wants 
to  use  it,  then  the  art  of  vine  dressing  [is  useful].  It 
seems  so.  You  will  say,  likewise,  that  when  a  shield  or 
a  lyre  is  to  be  kept  and  not  used,  then  justice  is  useful; 
but  when  they  are  to  be  used,  then  the  arts  of  warfare 
and  music  ?    Of  course.    And  with  reference  to  all  other 


36 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


things,  when  they  are  to  be  used,  justice  is  useless;  but 
when  they  are  not  to  be  used,  it  is  useful  ?    It  seems  so. 

Chap.  VIII.  Justice,  then,  my  friend,  can  be  no  very 
important  matter,  if  it  is  useful  only  in  respect  of  things 
not  to  be  used.  But  let  us  consider  this  matter:  is  not 
he  who  is  the  cleverest  at  striking  in  a  fight,  whether  with 
the  fists  or  some  other  way,  the  cleverest  likewise,  in 
self-defense?  Certainly.  And  as  to  the  person  who  is 
clever  in  warding  off  and  escaping  from  a  distemper,  is 
he  not  very  clever  also  in  bringing  it  on  ?  So  I  suppose. 
And  he  too  the  best  guardian  of  a  camp,  who  can  steal 
the  counsels,  and  the  other  operations  of  the  enemy  ? 
Certainly.  Of  whatever,  then,  any  one  is  a  good  guardian, 
of  that  likewise  he  is  a  clever  thief.  It  seems  so.  If, 
therefore,  the  just  man  be  clever  in  guarding  money,  he 
is  clever  likewise  in  stealing.  So  it  would  seem,  said 
he,  from  this  reasoning.  The  just  man,  then,  has  been 
shown  to  be  a  sort  of  thief;  and  it  is  likely  you  have 
learned  this  from  Horner;  for  he  not  only  admires  Autoly- 
cus,  the  maternal  grandfather  of  Ulysses,  but  says,  that 
he  was  distinguished  beyond  all  men  for  thievishness  and 
swearing.  Justice,  then,  seems  in  your  opinion  as  well 
as  in  that  of  Homer  and  Simonides,  to  be  a  sort  of 
thieving  carried  on  for  the  benefit  of  our  friends  on  the 
one  hand,  and  for  the  injury  of  our  enemies  on  the  other: 
did  not  you  say  so  ?  No,  by  Zeus,  I  did  not ;  nor, 
indeed,  do  I  any  longer  know  what  I  was  saying:  yet 
it  is  still  my  opinion,  that  justice  benefits  friends,  but 
injures  foes.  But  [tell  me]  whether  you  pronounce  such 
to  be  friends,  as  seem  to  be  honest;  or  such  merely  as 
are  so,  though  not  seeming  so;  and  in  the  same  way  as 
to  enemies  ?  It  is  reasonable,  said  he,  to  love  those  whom 
one  deems  honest,  and  to  hate  those  [one  deems]  wicked. 
But  do  not  men  fall  into  error  on  this  point,  so  that  many 
appear  to  them  honest  who  are  not  so,  and  many  the 
contrary  ?  Yes,  they  do.  To  such  as  these,  then,  the 
good  are  enemies,  and  the  bad  friends  ?  Certainly.  But 
still  is  it,  in  that  case,  just  for  them  to  benefit  the  wicked, 
and  hurt  the  good  ?  So  it  seems.  The  good,  moreover, 
are  just,  and  incapable  of  doing  any  ill.    True.  According 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


37 


to  your  argument,  then,  is  it  just  to  do  those  harm  who  do 
no  harm  [themselves]?  By  no  means  [think  that], 
Socrates,  replied  he ;  for  that  opinion  seems  to  be  vicious. 
With  respect  to  the  unjust,  then,  said  I,  is  it  right  to 
injure  these  but  to  do  good  to  the  just  ?  This  opinion 
seems  fairer  than  the  other.  To  many,  then,  it  will  occur 
[to  think]  Polemarchus, — that  is,  to  as  many  as  have 
formed  wrong  opinions  of  men, — that  they  may  justly  hurt 
their  friends  (for  they  are  wicked  to  them),  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  benefit  their  enemies,  inasmuch  as  they  are 
good:  and  thus  we  shall  state  the  very  reverse  of  what 
we  alleged  Simonides  to  say.  That  is  precisely  the  case, 
said  he:  but,  let  us  change  our  definition;  for  we  seem 
not  to  have  rightly  defined  a  friend  and  a  foe.  How  were 
they  defined,  Polemarchus  ?  That  he  who  seems  honest  is 
a  friend.  How  then  are  we  now  to  alter  our  definition, 
said  I  ?  That  the  person,  replied  he,  who  seems,  and  also 
is  honest,  is  a  friend;  but  that  he  who  is  apparently 
honest,  but  not  really  so,  seems  to  be,  yet  is  not  [really] 
a  friend:  the  definition,  too,  respecting  an  enemy,  exactly 
corresponds.  The  good  man,  according  to  this  reasoning, 
will,  it  seems,  be  a  friend ;  and  the  wicked  man  a  foe  ? 
Yes.  Do  you  bid  us  then  make  an  addition  to  our  former 
definition  of  justice  by  saying  that  it  is  just  to  serve  a 
friend  and  harm  a  foe :  and  are  we  now  to  say,  in  addition 
to  this,  that  it  is  just  to  serve  a  friend  who  is  good,  but 
to  hurt  an  enemy  who  is  bad  ?  This  last,  said  he,  seems  to 
me  perfectly  well  expressed. 

Chap.  IX.  Is  it  the  just  man's  part,  then,  said  I,  to 
hurt  any  one  mortal  whatever  ?  By  all  means,  said  he ; 
the  wicked  at  least,  and  his  enemies,  he  ought  certainly 
to  injure.  And  horses,  when  hurt,  do  they  become  bet- 
ter or  worse  ?  Worse.  Do  they  so,  as  regards  the  virtue 
of  dogs  or  horses  ?  That  of  horses.  And,  do  not  dogs, 
when  hurt,  become  worse  as  regards  the  virtue  of  dogs, 
but  not  of  horses  ?  Necessarily  so.  As  to  men,  then, 
friend,  may  we  not  likewise  say,  that  when  hurt,  they  be- 
come worse  with  reference  to  man's  virtue  ?  Certainly. 
But  is  not  justice  a  human  virtue  ?  This  too  we  must 
[allow].    It  follows,  then,  friend,  that  those  men  who  are 


38 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


hurt  become  more  unjust  ?  It  seems  so.  Can  musicians, 
then,  by  music,  make  men  unmusical  ?  Impossible.  Or 
horsemen,  by  horsemanship,  make  men  unskilled  in 
horsemanship  ?  They  cannot.  Is  it  possible,  either,  that 
by  justice  the  just  [can  make  men]  unjust;  or  in  general 
that  by  virtue,  the  good  can  make  men  wicked  ?  It  is 
impossible.  [Yes],  for  it  is  not,  methinks,  the  effect  of 
heat  to  make  cold,  but  [the  effect]  of  its  contrary  ?  Yes. 
Nor  of  drought  to  make  moist,  but  that  of  its  contrary  ? 
Certainly.  Neither  is  it  the  part  of  a  good  man  to  hurt, 
but  that  of  his  contrary  ?  It  appears  so.  But,  at  any 
rate,  the  just  is  good  ?  Certainly.  Neither,  then,  is  it 
the  part  of  a  just  man,  Polemarchus,  to  hurt  either  friend 
or  any  other,  but  [that]  of  his  contrary,  the  unjust  man. 
In  all  respects,  Socrates,  said  he,  you  seem  to  reason 
truly.  If,  then,  an)^  one  affirms  it  just  to  give  every  one 
his  due,  and  consequently  thinks  this  within  himself,  that 
injury  is  due  from  a  just  man  to  enemies,  but  service  to 
friends, — he  was  not  wise  who  said  so,  for  he  spoke  not 
the  truth:  for  in  no  case  has  the  justice  been  proved 
of  injuring  any  one  at  all.  I  agree,  said  he.  You  and 
I  then  will  jointly  dispute  the  point,  said  I,  if  any  one 
allege,  that  Simonides,  or  Bias,  or  Pittacus,  or  any  other 
of  those  wise  and  happy  men  said  so.  I  am  ready,  for 
my  part,  said  he,  to  take  part  in  this  discussion.  But  know 
you,  said  I,  whose  saying  I  conceive  it  to  be, — that  it  is 
just  to  serve  friends,  and  hurt  enemies  ?  Whose,  said  he  ? 
I  conceive  it  to  be  Periander's,  or  Perdiccas's,  or  Xerxes's, 
or  Ismenius's,  the  Theban,  or  of  some  other  rich  man, 
who  thought  himself  mightily  important.  You  say  most 
truly,  said  he.  Be  it  so,  said  I;  but  as  this  has  not 
been  shown  to  be  justice  nor  the  just,  what  else  may 
one  say  it  is  ? 

Chap.  X.  Now  Thrasymachus  had  frequently  during 
our  discourse  been  on  the  point  of  breaking  in  upon  the 
discussion  with  some  objection,  but  was  hindered  by  the 
sitters-by,  who  wanted  to  hear  out  the  conversation. 
When,  however,  we  came  to  a  pause,  and  after  my 
making  these  last  remarks,  he  could  no  longer  keep 
quiet;  but,  taking  his  spring  like  a  wild  beast,  attacked 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


39 


US,  as  if  he  would  tear  us  in  pieces.  Both  myself  and 
Polemarchus  were  frightened  and  terror-struck.  But  he, 
raising  his  voice  in  the  midst,  cried  out:  What  is  this, 
Socrates,  which  has  so  long  possessed  you;  and  why  do 
you  thus  play  the  fool  together,  conceding  mutually  to 
one  another  ?  But  if  in  particular  you  really  want  to 
know  the  nature  of  justice,  do  not  only  ask  questions, 
and  value  yourself  in  refuting  the  answers  you  may  get, 
well  knowing  that  it  is  easier  to  ask  than  to  answer ;  but 
answer  yourself,  and  state  your  own  view  of  the  nature 
of  justice.  And  [take  care]  that  you  do  not  tell  me  that 
it  is  what  is  fit,  or  what  is  due,  or  what  is  profitable,  or 
what  is  gainful,  or  what  is  expedient;  but,  whatever  you 
mean,  express  it  plainly  and  accurately;  for  I  will  not 
allow  you  to  utter  such  trifles  as  these.  I  was  astounded 
on  hearing  this;  and*when  I  looked  at  him,  I  was  fright- 
ened; and,  metliinks,  had  I  *not  perceived  him  before  he 
perceived  me,  I  should  have  become  speechless.*  But 
just  when  he  began  to  grow  fierce  under  our  discussion, 
I  observed  him  first,  so  that  I  was  now  able  to  answer 
him,  and  said,  somewhat  in  a  flutter:  Be  not  hard  on 
us,  Thrasymachus ;  if  I  and  he  [Polemarchus]  err  in  the 
working  out  of  our  arguments,  be  well  assured  we  err 
unwittingly:  for,  think  not,  that  if  we  were  searching  for 
gold,  we  would  ever  wittingly  yield  to  one  another  in 
the  search,  thus  frustrating  all  chance  of  discovering  it, 
and  yet  searching  for  justice, — a  matter  far  more  valu- 
able than  gold,  foolishly  make  concessions  to  each  other, 
and  not  labor  with  the  utmost  ardor  for  its  discovery: 
think  you  so,  friend  ?  Nay,  methinks,  we  could  not. 
That  we  should  be  sympathized  with  by  your  clever  per- 
sons is  far  more  to  be  expected,  then,  than  that  we  should 
be  treated  with  contempt. 

Chap.  XI.  On  hearing  this  he  [Thrasymachus]  gave  a 
disdainful  sort  of  laugh,  and  said:  By  Heracles,  this  is 
Socrates's  wonted  irony;  and  this  I  both  knew,  and  fore- 
told to  these  here, — that  you  never  incline  to  answer,  but 

*This  alludes  to  the  popular  belief  that  men  were  rendered  speech- 
less by  the  fixed  look  of  a  wolf ;  but  this,  they  thought,  was  not  the  case 
if  they  saw  the  wolf  first. 


40 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


use  your  irony,  and  do  any  thing  rather  than  answer,  if 
any  one  asks  you  any  thing.  Aye ;  you  are  a  wise  man, 
Thrasymachus,  said  I ;  for  you  knew  well,  that  if  you 
asked  any  one,  how  many  make  twelve ;  and,  if  asking,  you 
should  tell  him,  you  mUst  not  tell  me,  man,  that  twelve 
are  twice  six, — or  three  times  four, — or  four  times  three ; 
because  I  will  not  admit  it,  if  you  are  such  a  trifier;  it 
was  plain  to  you,  methinks,  that  no  man  would  answer 
one  so  inquiring.  But  if  he  should  say  to  you,  What  mean 
you,  Thrasymachus,  may  I  not  answer  in  any  of  these 
ways  you  have  told  me, — not  even  though  the  real  answer 
happen  to  be  one  of  them ;  but  am  I  rather  to  say  some- 
thing else  than  the  truth  ?  Or,  how  is  it  you  mean  ?  What 
would  you  say  to  him  in  reply  to  these  things  ?  If  they 
were  alike,  I  should  give  an  answer;  for  the  one,  forsooth, 
is  like  the  other.  That  is  no  real  objection,  said  I;*  but 
even  if  it  be  not  like,  but  only  appears  so  to  him  who 
has  been  asked,  do  you  think  he  would  the  less  readily 
express  his  opinion,  whether  we  should  forbid  him  or  not  ? 
And,  will  you  do  so  now  ?  said  he.  Will  you  state,  in 
reply,  some  of  those  things  which  I  forbade  you  to  say  ? 
I  should  not  wonder  if  I  did,  said  I,  if  it  appeared  so  to  me 
on  inquiry.  What,  then,  said  he,  if  I  should  show  you 
another  answer,  besides  all  these  about  justice,  and  better, 
too,  than  these, — what  will  you  deserve  to  suffer?  What 
else,  said  I,  but  what  the  ignorant  ought  to  suffer?  —  and 
it  is  proper,  perhaps,  to  learn  from  a  wise  man.  I  conse- 
quently deserve  to  suffer  this.  You  are  merry  now,  said 
he;  but  besides  learning  you  must  pay  money,  too.  Aye, 
when  I  have  it,  said  I.  We  have  got  some,  said  Glaucon; 
but,  as  for  the  money,  Thrasymachus,  say  on,  for  all  of  us 
will  club  for  Socrates.  By  all  means,  I  think,  said  he,  in 
order  that  Socrates  may  go  on  in  his  usual  manner, — not 
answer  himself,  but  when  another  answers,  take  up  the 
discourse  and  confute.  How,  then,  in  the  first  place,  my 
good  fellow,  said  I,  can  a  man  answer,  when  he  neither 
knows,  nor  pretends  to  know ;  and  when,  supposing  him  to 
have  any  opinion  at  all  about  these  matters,  he  is  for- 

*  Thrasymachus  here  alleges  with  a  sneer,  that  the  example  ad- 
duced by  Socrates  had  no  connection  with  the  subject  treated  in 
the  last  chapter. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


41 


bidden  to  say  what  he  thinks  by  no  ordinary  person  ? 
But  it  is  more  reasonable,  then,  that  you  speak,  as  you 
say  you  know,  and  can  tell  us.  Do  not  refuse,  then,  but 
oblige  me  by  answering,  and  do  not  begrudge  instructing 
Glaucon  here,  and  the  rest  of  the  company. 

Chap.  XII.  On  my  saying  this,  both  Glaucon  and  the 
rest  of  the  company  entreated  him  not  to  decline  it: 
and  Thrasymachus  in  particular,  was  evidently  most  anx- 
ious to  speak,  in  order  to  gain  applause,  reckoning  he 
had  a  mighty  clever  answer  to  make,  and  pretending  to 
be  earnest  that  I  should  be  the  answerer;  but  at  last  he 
agreed.  Nov/,  this,  forsooth,  said  he,  is  the  wisdom  of 
Socrates,  that  he  himself  is  unwilling  to  teach,  but  goes 
about  learning  from  others,  and  gives  no  thanks  for  it. 
That  I  learn  from  others,  Thrasymachus,  is  quite  true, 
said  I ;  but  in  saying,  that  I  do  not  thank  persons  for  it, 
you  are  wrong.  I  pay  as  much  as  I  am  able,  and  I  can 
only  give  them  praise,  for  money  I  have  none;  but  how 
readily  I  do  this,  when  any  one  appears  to  me  to  speak 
well,  you  shall  perfectly  know  directly,  whenever  you 
make  your  answer;  for  methinks  you  will  speak  well. 
Hear,  then,  said  he,  for  I  say  that  the  just  is  nothing 
else  but  what  is  expedient  for  the  strongest.  But  why 
do  not  you  commend  ?  Ah !  you  do  not  like  that.  Let 
me  learn  first,  said  I,  what  it  is  you  are  talking  about; 
for  as  yet  I  know  not.  That  which  is  expedient  for  the 
strongest  you  say,  is  the  just.  And  what,  at  all,  is  it 
that  you  are  talking  of  now,  Thrasymachus  ?  for  you  cer- 
tainly do  not  mean  any  thing  like  this.  If  Polydamas, 
the  wrestler,  be  stronger  than  we,  and  if  beef  be  better 
for  his  body,  this  food  is  likewise  both  just  and  beneficial 
to  us,  who  are  weaker  than  himself.  You  are  a  saucy 
fellow,  Socrates,  and  lay  hold  of  my  argument  just  on 
that  side  where  you  may  damage  it  most.  By  no  means, 
my  good  fellow,  said  I ;  but  say  more  plainly  what  is  your 
meaning.  Know  you  not,  then,  said  he,  that  with  refer- 
ence to  States,  some  are  tyrannical,  others  democratical, 
and  others  aristocratical  ?  Of  course.  And  is  not  the 
governing  part  of  each  State  the  more  powerful  ?  Cer- 
tainly: and  every  government  makes  laws  precisely  to 


42 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


suit  itself, —  a  democracy,  democratic  laws;  a  tyranny, 
tyrannic;  and  the  rest  in  like  manner:  and  when  they 
have  made  them,  they  declare  that  to  be  just  for  the 
governed,  which  is  advantageous  for  themselves,  and  any 
one  who  transgresses  it,  they  punish  as  one  acting  con 
trary  both  to  law  and  justice.  This,  then,  most  excel- 
lent Socrates,  is  what  I  say,  that  in  all  States  the  same 
thing  constitutes  justice,  viz.,  what  is  expedient  for  the 
established  government.  This,  then,  is  the  fact  with 
him  who  reasons  rightly,  that  in  all  cases  whatever  that 
same  is  just  which  is  expedient  for  the  more  powerful. 
Now,  said  I,  I  understand  what  you  mean.  But  as  to 
its  truth  or  otherwise,  I  will  try  to  find  out.  As  for  the 
expedient,  then,  even  you  yourself,  Thrasymachus,  have 
affirmed  it  to  be  the  just;  and  yet,  though  you  forbade 
me  to  give  the  answer,  still  you  are  adding  the  expres- 
sion OF  THE  MORE  POWERFUL.  Quitc  a  trifling  addition, 
perhaps,  said  he.  It  is  not  clear  yet,  whether  it  is  small 
or  great;  but  it  is  clear  that  we  must  inquire  whether 
you  speak  the  truth,  since  I,  too,  acknowledge  that  the 
just  is  something  that  is  expedient;  but  you  say,  in  ad- 
dition, that  it  is  that  also  which  belongs  to  the  most 
powerful.  This  I  am  not  sure  of;  but  that  is  what  we 
have  to  inquire.    Inquire  then,  said  he. 

Chap.  XIII.  We  will  do  so,  said  I:  and,  tell  me, — 
do  you  not  say,  that  it  is  just  to  obey  governors  ?  Yes, 
I  do.  Are  the  governors  in  the  several  states  infallible, 
or  are  they  capable  of  errmg  ?  Certainly,  said  he,  they 
are  liable  to  err.  When  they  set  about  making  laws, 
then,  do  they  not  make  some  of  them  right,  and  some 
of  them  wrong  ?  I  think  so.  To  make  them  right,  then, 
is  to  make  them  expedient  for  themselves,  and  to  make 
them  not  right  [is  that]  inexpedient;  or  how  mean 
you  ?  Just  so.  And  what  they  enact  is  to  be  observed 
by  the  governed ;  and  this  is  what  is  just  ?  Of  course. 
According  to  your  reasoning,  then,  it  is  just,  to  do  what 
is  expedient  to  the  stronger,  while  the  contrary  is  what 
is  not  expedient:  what  say  you  ?  replied  he.  I  am  of 
the  same  opinion  as  yourself.  But  let  us  inquire  better. 
Is  it  not  granted,  that  governors  in  bidding  the  governed 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


43 


do  certain  things,  may  sometimes  be  in  error  as  to  what 
is  best  for  themselves;  and  that  what  the  governors  en- 
join, is  just  for  the  governed  to  do  ?  Have  not  these 
[truths]  been  granted  ?  I  think  so,  said  he.  Consider, 
also,  therefore,  said  I,  that  you  have  allowed  it  to  be 
just  to  do  what  is  inexpedient  for  governors  and  the 
more  powerful,  whenever  governors  unwillingly  enjoin 
what  is  ill  for  themselves;  and  yet  you  say,  that  it  is 
just  for  the  others  to  do  what  these  enjoin.  Must  it  not 
necessarily  happen,  then,  most  sage  Thrasymachus,  that, 
in  this  case,  it  may  be  just  to  do  the  contrary  of  what 
you  say;  for  that  which  is  the  disadvantage  of  the  more 
powerful,  is  sometimes  enjoined  on  the  inferiors  ?  Yes, 
by  Zeus,  said  Polemarchus,  these  things  are  quite  clear, 
Socrates.  Yes,  if  you  bear  him  witness,  said  Clitophon 
in  rejoinder.  What  need,  said  I,  of  a  witness  ?  for 
Thrasymachus  himself  acknowledges  that  governors  some- 
times order  what  is  ill  for  themselves,  and  that  it  is  just 
for  the  governed  to  do  these  things.  Aye,  Polemarchus; 
for  he  laid  it  down,  that  it  is  just  to  do  what  is  bid- 
den by  the  governors,  and  he  has  also  defined  that  as 
just,  Clitophon,  which  is  expedient  for  the  more  pow- 
erful; and,  having  laid  down  both  these  propositions, 
he  has  granted  that  the  more  powerful  sometimes  bid 
the  inferiors  and  governed  to  do  what  is  inexpedient 
for  themselves;  and,  from  these  concessions,  what  is 
expedient  for  the  more  powerful  can  no  more  be  just 
than  what  is  not  expedient.  But  he  alleged,  said  Clito- 
phon, that  what  was  expedient  for  the  strongest  was 
what  the  strongest  judged  expedient  for  himself;  this, 
too,  was  to  be  done  by  the  inferior,  and  this  he 
defined  as  the  just.  Aye, — but  that  was  not  stated, 
said  Polemarchus.  There  is  no  difference,  Polemarchus, 
said  I;  but,  if  Thrasymachus  says  so  now,  so  let  us 
understand  him. 

Chap.  XIV.  Now  tell  me,  Thrasymachus;  was  this 
what  you  meant  by  justice, — namely,  the  advantage  of 
the  more  powerful,  such  as  appeared  so  to  the  more 
powerful,  whether  it  really  were  so,  or  not:  shall  we 
say  that  you  mean  this  ?    Not  at  all,  said  he :  for,  think 


44 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


you,  I  call  him  who  errs,  the  more  powerful,  at  the  time 
he  errs  ?  For  my  part,  said  I,  I  thought  you  meant  this, 
when  you  acknowledged  that  governors  were  not  infal- 
lible, but  that  in  some  things  even  they  erred.  You  are 
a  sycophant,  said  he,  in  reasoning,  Socrates!*  For,  for 
instance,  do  you  call  him  a  physician,  who  errs  about 
the  treatment  of  the  sick,  in  respect  of  that  very  thing 
in  which  he  errs ;  or  him  a  reasoner,  who  errs  in  reason- 
ing, at  the  very  time  he  errs,  and  with  reference  to  that 
very  error  ?  ,  But,  we  say,  in  common  language,  I  fancy, 
that  the  physician  erred,  the  reasoner  erred,  and  the 
grammarian  likewise;  but  in  fact,  I  think,  each  of  these, 
so  far  as  he  is  what  we  designate  him,  never  errs;  so 
that,  strictly  speaking  ( especially  as  you  are  a  strict 
reasoner),  no  artist  errs;  for  he  who  errs,  errs  through 
defect  of  science,  in  what  he  is  not  an  artist;  and  hence 
no  artist,  or  wise  man,  or  governor,  errs,  in  so  far  as 
he  is  a  governor.  Yet  every  one  would  say  ^*the  phy- 
sician erred,  and  the  governor  erred. "  You  must  under- 
stand, then,  that  it  was  in  this  way  I  just  now  answered 
you.  But  the  most  accurate  answer  is  this:  that  the 
governor,  in  as  far  as  he  is  governor,  errs  not;  and  as 
he  does  not  err,  he  enacts  that  which  is  best  for  him- 
self, and  this  must  be  observed  by  the  governed.  So 
that  as  I  said  at  the  beginning,  I  call  justice  the  doing 
that  which  is  for  the  advantage  of  the  strongest  [i.  e., 
the  best] . 

Chap.  XV.  Be  it  so,  said  I,  Thrasymachus ;  but  do  I 
seem  to  you  to  act  the  sycophant  ?  Aye,  surely,  said  he. 
Do  you  think  that  I  insidiously  misled  you  in  the  argu- 
ment, to  put  the  question  to  you  as  I  did  ?  I  know  it 
well,  said  he,  and  you  shall  gain  nothing  by  it ;  for  neither 
shall  you  mislead  me  unawares,  nor  can  you  unawares 
get  the  better  of  me  in  argument.  I  shall  not  attempt 
it,  said  I,  my  excellent  friend,  but,  that  nothing  of  this 

*  There  was  a  prevalent  corruption  in  the  law-courts  o£  Athens, 
which  at  length  gave  rise  to  a  separate  class,  —  the  infamous  syco- 
phants, who  lived  by  extortion  and  making  criminal  charges  against 
the  opulent  citizens  of  timid  natures  and  quiet  habits,  who  were  ordi- 
narily led  to  purchase  the  silence  of  these  informers,  who  hence  rose  to 
wealth  and  importance. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


45 


kind  may  happen  to  us  again, — define  in  which  way  you 
speak  of  a  ruler,  and  superior,  according  only  to  com- 
mon talk,  or  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word,  as  you  just 
now  said,  he,  whose  advantage,  in  that  he  is  the  more 
powerful,  it  is  just  for  the  inferior  to  observe.  [I  speak 
of  him]  who  is  a  ruler  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  word. 
For  this  now  abuse  and  calumniate  me,  as  you  like.  I 
do  not  deprecate  your  doing  so;  but  you  are  quite  unable. 
Do  you  think  me  so  mad,  said  I,  as  to  attempt  to  shave 
a  lion,*  and  traduce  Thrasymachus  ?  You  have  just  at- 
tempted it,  said  he,  but  with  no  effect.  Enough  of  such 
matters,  said  I ;  but  tell  me  he  who  is,  strictly  speaking, 
a  physician,  whom  you  just  now  mentioned,  is  he  a  gainer 
of  money,  or  a  tender  of  the  sick  ?  —  and  mind  —  tell  us 
of  him  who  is  really  a  physician.  A  tender  of  the  sick, 
said  he.  But  what  of  the  pilot  ?  Is  he  who  is  really  a 
pilot,  a  master  of  sailors,  or  a  sailor  ?  A  master  of  sail- 
ors. It  matters  not,  I  fancy,  that  he  sails  in  a  ship, 
and  is  not  to  be  called  a  sailor;  for  he  it  is  not  called  a 
pilot  from  his  sailing,  but  from  his  art,  and  his  mastery 
of  the  sailors.  True,  said  he.  Has  not  each  of  these, 
then,  something  that  is  advantageous  for  him  ?  Certainly. 
Was  not  the  art,  then,  acquired  for  this  very  purpose, 
said  I,  to  seek  out  and  supply  to  each  what  is  advan- 
tageous for  him  ?  For  that  purpose,  said  he.  To  each  of 
the  arts,  then,  is  any  other  advantage  wanting,  than  to  be 
as  perfect  as  possible  ?  How  mean  you  by  this  question  ? 
If  you  were  to  ask  me,  said  I,  whether  it  is  sufficient  for 
the  body  to  be  a  body,  or  whether  it  needs  something 
else,  I  should  say,  that  it  certainly  does  stand  in  need  of 
something  else.  For  this  reason,  indeed,  has  the  medici- 
nal art  been  already  invented,  because  the  body  is  infirm, 
and  it  is  not  sufficient  for  it  to  be  such  as  it  is:  in 
order,  then,  to  supply  what  is  advantageous  for  it,  art 
has  been  provided.  Do  you  think  then,  said  I,  that  I 
am  right,  or  not,  in  thus  speaking  ?  Right,  said  he.  But 
what  then  ?  Is  this  very  art  of  medicine,  or  any  other 
whatever,  imperfect,  as  "being  deficient  in  a  certain  virtue ; 
just  as  the  eyes,  when  deficient  as  to  sight,  and  the  ears 

*A  proverb,  meaning  —  To  undertake  any  thing  above  one's 
POWER.    There  is  a  similar  one  in  Latin. 


46 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


as  to  hearing;  and  for  these  reasons  need  they  a  certain 
additional  art  to  seek  out  and  furnish  what  is  expedient 
for  these  very  organs  ?  Is  there  then  in  art  itself  some 
imperfection,  and  does  every  art  need  another  art,  to 
consider  what  is  expedient  for  it,  and  does  that  which 
considers  again  need  another,-  and  so  on  to  infinity;  or 
will  each  art  consider  what  is  expedient  for  itself;  or 
will  each  need  neither  itself,  nor  any  other,  to  consider 
what  is  expedient  for  it  with  reference  to  its  own  imper- 
fection ?  For  there  is  no  imperfection  nor  error  in  any 
art  whatever;  nor  is  it  the  business  of  art  to  seek  what 
is  expedient  for  anything  else,  but  that  of  which  it  is 
the  art;  but  as  for  itself,  it  is  infallible  and  pure,  be- 
cause it  is  right,  so  long  as  each,  whatever  it  is,  be  an 
accurate  whole:  and  consider  now,  in  that  same  strict 
sense  of  the  words,  whether  it  be  thus  or  otherwise.  It 
seems  so,  said  he.  The  art  of  medicine,  then,  said  I, 
does  not  consider  what  is  expedient  for  the  art  of  medi- 
cine, but  for  the  body  ?  Yes,  said  he.  Nor  the  art  of 
managing  horses,  what  is  expedient  for  that  art,  but  for 
horses.  Nor  any  other  art  for  itself  (for  that  is  need- 
less), but  only  for  that  of  which  it  is  the  art  ?  So  it  ap- 
pears, he  said.  However,  Thrasymachus,  the  arts  rule 
and  govern  that  of  which  they  are  arts  ?  He  assented  to 
this,  though  with  great  difficulty.  No  science  whatever, 
then,  either  considers  or  dictates  what  is  expedient  for 
the  superior,  but  only  what  is  so  for  the  inferior, — that, 
namely,  which  is  governed  by  it  ?  To  this  also  he  at 
length  assented,  though  he  attempted  to  contend  about 
it.  But  when  he  had  assented.  What  else  is  this,  said  I, 
but  saying  that  no  physician,  so  far  as  he  is  a  physician, 
either  considers  or  dictates  what  is  expedient  for  the 
physician,  but  only  what  is  expedient  for  the  sick  ?  For 
the  physician,  strictly  so  called,  has  been  acknowledged 
to  be  one  who  has  charge  of  the  body,  and  is  not  an 
amasser  of  wealth.  Has  it  not  been  acknowledged  ?  He 
assented.  And  likewise  that  the  pilot,  so  called,  is  the 
master  of  the  sailors,  and  not  a  sailor  ?  It  has  been  ac- 
knowledged. Such  a  pilot  and  master  then,  will  not  con- 
sider and  dictate  what  is  expedient  for  the  pilot,  but  what 
is  so  to  the  sailor  and  the  governed  ?    He  acquiesced,  but 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


47 


unwillingly.  Nor  yet,  Thrasymachus,  said  I,  does  any 
other  in  any  government  whatever,  so  far  as  he  is  a 
governor,  consider  or  dictate  what  is  expedient  for  him- 
self, but  only  for  the  governed  and  those  to  whom  he 
acts  as  steward;  and,  with  an  eye  to  this,  and  to  what 
is  expedient  and  suitable  for  this,  he  both  says  what  he 
says,  and  does  what  he  does. 

Chap.  XVL  When  we  were  at  this  part  of  the  dis- 
cussion, and  it  was  evident  to  all,  that  the  definition  of 
jvistice  stood  now  quite  contrary  [to  that  of  Thrasyma- 
chus] Thrasymachus,  instead  of  replying,  said:  Tell  me, 
Socrates,  have  you  a  nurse  ?  What  now,  said  I ;  ought 
you  not  rather  to  answer,  than  put  such  questions  ?  Be- 
cause, forsooth,  said  he,  she  neglects  you  when  your  nose 
is  stuffed,  and  does  not  wipe  it  when  it  needs  it,  you,  who 
as  well  as  she,  understands  neither  about  sheep  nor  shep- 
herd. What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  ?  said  I.  Because 
you  think  that  shepherds  and  herdsmen  consider  the  good 
of  the  sheep  or  oxen,  to  fatten  and  tend  them,  having  their 
eye  on  something  else  than  their  master's  good  and  their 
own;  moreover,  that  those  who  rule  in  cities,  those, 
who  rule  truly,  are  somehow  differently  disposed  towards 
the  governed,  than  [a  shepherd]  would  be  towards  sheep, 
and  that  they  attend  day  and  night  to  somewhat  else  than 
the  question,  how  they  shall  be  gainers  themselves;  and 
so  far  are  you  from  the  notion  of  the  just  and  justice, 
and  the  unjust  and  injustice,  that  you  seem  ignorant  that 
both  justice  and  the  just  are,  in  reality,  a  foreign  good, 
expedient  for  the  stronger  and  ruling  party,  but  posi- 
tively injurious  to  the  subject  and  servant, — while  injus- 
tice, on  the  contrary,  takes  the  rule  of  such  as  are  truly 
simple  and  just,  and  the  governed  do  what  is  expedient 
for  him,  since  he  possesses  the  most  power,  and  promote 
his  happiness,  by  serving  him,  but  themselves  not  at 
all.  In  this  case,  most  simple  Socrates,  we  should  con- 
sider, that  a  just  man  gets  less  on  all  occasions  than  an 
unjust.  First,  in  mutual  contracts  with  one  another, 
where  a  certain  party  joins  with  another,  you  will  never 
find  on  the  dissolution  of  the  partnership,  that  the  just 
man  gets  more  than  the  unjust,  but  less:  then,  again,  in 


48 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


civil  affairs,  when  public  imposts  are  to  be  paid,  the  just 
man,  from  equal  means,  pays  more,  the  other  less;  and 
when  anything  is  to  be  gained,  the  one  gains  nothing,  the 
other  much;  and  when  each  of  these  holds  any  public 
office,  if  no  other  loss  befalls  the  just  man,  at  any  rate  his 
domestic  affairs  become  deteriorated  through  neglect,  and 
from  the  public  he  derives  no  benefit,  because  he  is  just ; 
besides  which,  he  becomes  hated  by  his  domestics  and 
acquaintance,  since  he  will  never  serve  them,  beyond 
what  is  just.  But  with  the  unjust  man,  all  the  contrary 
of  this  occurs;  for  I  maintain,  what  I  lately  said,  that 
such  an  one  has  a  great  power  of  becoming  unfairly 
rich.  Consider  the  case  of  this  man,  therefore,  if  you 
would  discern  how  much  more  it  conduces  to  his  private 
interest  to  be  unjust,  rather  than  just.  This  you  will 
most  easily  of  all  understand  if  you  come  to  the  most 
finished  injustice,  such  as  renders  the  unjust  man  most 
happy,  but  the  injured  and  those  who  are  unwilling  to  do 
injustice,  most  wretched.  This,  now,  is  tyranny,  which 
takes  away  the  goods  of  others,  as  well  by  secret  fraud  as 
open  violence,  both  things  sacred  and  holy,  private  and 
public,  and  these  in  no  small  portions,  but  all  at  once. 
In  all  particular  cases  of  such  crimes,  when  a  man  undis- 
giiisedly  commits  injustice,  he  is  both  punished  and 
treated  with  the  greatest  ignominy :  and  as  a  proof  of  this, 
they  are  called  sacrilegious,  kidnappers,  housebreakers, 
pilferers,  and  thieves,  according  to  the  several  kinds  of 
the  wickedness  committed.  But  when  a  inan,  in  addition 
to  the  property  of  the  citizens,  takes  prisoners  and  en- 
slaves the  citizens  themselves,  instead  of  these  ugly 
names,  he  is  called  happy  and  blest,  not  only  by  the  citi- 
zens, but  likewise  by  all  the  rest,  whoever  may  get 
informed  that  he  has  committed  [such]  enormous  injus- 
tice; for  those  who  revile  wickedness,  revile  it  —  not 
because  they  are  afraid  of  doing,  but  because  they  are 
afraid  of  suffering  what  is  unjust.  Thus,  Socrates,  is  it, 
that  injustice,  when  it  attains  a  certain  point,  is  both 
more  powerful,  more  free,  and  more  absolutely  despotic 
than  justice:  and  (as  I  said  at  the  beginning)  the  advan- 
tage of  the  stronger  happens  to  be  just  while  that  is 
unjust  which  profits  and  benefits  one's  self. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


49 


Chap.  XVII.  Saying  this,  Thrasymachus  purposed 
going  off,  after  pouring  on  our  ears,  as  a  bath-keeper, 
this  impetuous  and  lengthened  discourse.  Those  present, 
however,  would  not  suffer  him,  but  forced  him  to  stay 
and  give  account  of  what  he  had  advanced ;  and  I  myself, 
also,  strongly  urged  him,  and  said:  Oh!  wonderful 
Thrasymachus;  do  you  purpose,  after  throwing  on  us 
such  strange  talk,  to  go  away  without  rightly  instructing 
us,  or  informing  yourself  whether  the  case  be  as  you 
say,  or  otherwise  ?  Do  you  think  that  you  are  trying  to 
determine  some  small  matter,  and  not  the  guide  of  life, 
by  which  each  of  us  being  conducted  may  pass  his  life 
most  profitably  ?  Can  I  think  that  the  case  is  otherwise  ? 
said  Thrasymachus.  You  seem,  at  any  rate,  said  I,  to 
care  nothing  at  all  about  us,  nor  to  be  any  way  con- 
cerned whether  we  shall  live  well  or  ill,  through  our 
ignorance  of  what  you  say  you  know;  but,  my  good 
friend,  be  so  obliging  as  to  show  it  to  us  also;  nor  will 
the  favor  be  ill-placed,  whatever  you  may  bestow  on 
so  many  of  us  as  are  here  present.  And  I,  for  my  part, 
can  say  that  I  am  not  persuaded,  nor  do  I  think,  that 
injustice  is  more  gainful  than  justice, — not  even  should 
we  allow  it  play,  and  not  prevent  it  doing  what  it  likes. 
But,  my  good  friend,  even  supposing  him  to  be  unjust 
and  able  to  do  unjustly,  either  secretly  or  by  open  force, 
yet  I  at  least  am  not  persuaded  that  injustice  is  more 
gainful  than  justice;  and  on  this  point  probably  some 
of  us  here  are  of  the  same  mind,  and  not  I  alone. 
Persuade  us,  therefore,  sufficiently,  my  admirable  friend, 
that  we  are  wrong  in  deeming  justice  of  more  value 
than  injustice.  But  how,  said  he,  am  I  to  persuade  you  ? 
for  if  you  are  not  persuaded  by  what  I  have  said  already, 
what  further  can  I  do  for  you  ?  Shall  I  take  and  implant 
my  arguments  in  your  very  soul  ?  By  Zeus,  no,  said  I ; 
but,  first  of  all,  whatever  you  have  said,  abide  by  it:  or, 
if  you  do  change,  change  openly,  and  do  not  deceive  us. 
Now,  you  see,  Thrasymachus  —  (for  we  will  reconsider 
what  has  been  above  said)  —  that  in  first  defining  the  true 
physician,  you  did  not  think  it  needful  afterward,  that 
the  true  shepherd  should  strictly  keep  his  flock,  but  fancy, 
that  so  far  as  he  is  a  shepherd,  he  may  feed  his  flock 
4 


5° 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


without  regarding  the  best  interests  of  the  sheep,  but 
rather  as  some  glutton  going  to  feast  on  them  at  some 
entertainment,  or  to  dispose  of  them  as  a  merchant,  and 
not  [care  for  them]  as  a  shepherd.  The  shepherd  art, 
however,  has  certainly  no  other  care  but  that  for  which 
it  is  appointed,  namely,  to  afford  it  what  is  best,  since  its 
own  affairs  are  already  so  sufficiently  provided  for,  as  to 
be  in  the  very  best  state  without  needing  any  of  the  shep- 
herd art.  So  likewise,  I,  for  my  part,  conceived  that 
there  you  must  necessarily  agree  with  us  in  this,  that 
every  government,  in  as  far  as  it  is  government,  considers 
what  is,  best  for  nothing  else  but  for  that  which  is  gov- 
erned and  tended,  whether  in  political  or  private  govern- 
ment. But  with  respect  to  rulers  in  cities,  think  you  that 
such  as  are  really  rulers  govern  willingly  ?  No,  by  Zeus, 
said  he,  [I  do  not  think  so]  ;  but  I  am  quite  certain. 

Chap.  XVIII.  Why  now,  Thrasymachus,  said  I,  do 
you  not  perceive,  as  regards  all  other  governments,  that 
no  one  undertakes  them  willingly,  but  men  ask  for  rec- 
ompense, since  the  benefits  likely  to  accrue  from  governing 
are  not  to  come  to  themselves,  but  to  the  governed  ? 
Tell  me  this,  then ;  do  we  not  always  say  that  each 
several  art  is  distinct  in  this,  in  having  a  distinct  func- 
tion ?  And  my  admirable  friend,  do  not  answer  contrary 
to  your  opinion,  that  we  may  make  some  real  progress. 
In  this  respect,  at  any  rate,  said  he,  it  is  distinct.  And 
does  not  each  of  them  afford  us  some  certain  peculiar 
advantage,  and  not  a  common  one;  as,  for  instance,  the 
medicinal,  health;  the  pilot  art,  safety  in  sailing, —  and 
the  rest  in  like  manner  ?  Certainly.  And  has  not  the 
mercenary  art  mercenary  reward  ?  for  this  is  its  function. 
Do  you  call  both  the  medicinal  art  and  the  pilot  art  one 
and  the  same  ?  Or,  if  you  mean  to  define  them  strictly, 
as  you  proposed,  though  one  in  piloting  recover  his  health, 
on  account  of  the  expedience  of  his  going  to  sea,  you  will 
not  at  all  the  more  on  this  account  call  it  the  medicinal 
art  ?  Not  at  all,  said  he.  Nor  [will  you  call]  the  mer- 
cenary art  the  medicinal,  I  fancy,  though  in  earning  a 
reward  one  may  recover  his  health  ?  No,  indeed.  What 
then  ?   Will  you  call  the  medicinal  the  mercenary  art,  if, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


5> 


in  performing-  a  cure,  one  earn  a  reward  ?  No,  said  he. 
Have  we  not  acknowledged,  then,  that  each  art  has  its 
peculiar  advantage  ?  Granted,  said  he.  Whatever,  then,  be 
that  advantage,  with  which  all  artists  in  common  are  advan- 
taged, it  must  plainly  be  by  using  some  same  thing  in  com- 
mon to  all,  that  they  are  advantaged  by  it.  It  seems  so,  said 
he.  Still  we  say  that  the  advantage  accruing  to  artists 
from  receiving  a  reward  comes  to  them  from  the  adop- 
tion of  a  mercenary  art.  He  acquiesced  unwillingly.  This, 
then,  is  not  the  advantage  which  each  receives  from  his 
own  art  [namely],  the  receiving  a  reward  ?  But  if  we 
strictly  consider  it,  the  art  of  medicine  produces  health, 
that  of  money-getting  a  reward,  masonry  a  house,  and 
the  mercenary  art  accompanying  it,  a  reward ;  and  all  the 
others  in  like  manner, —  every  one  performs  its  own  work, 
and  confers  advantage  on  that  for  which  it  was  designed; 
but  if  it  meet  not  with  a  reward,  is  the  artist  benefited 
at  all  by  his  art  ?  It  appears  not,  said  he.  But  confers 
he  no  service  when  he  works  gratuitously  ?  I  think  he 
does.  This,  then,  is  now  evident,  Thrasymachus,  that  no 
art  or  government  provides  what  is  advantageous  for 
itself ;  but,  as  we  said  long  ago,  it  both  provides  and  pre- 
scribes for  the  governed  what  is  advantageous  to  him, 
having  in  view  the  interest  of  the  inferior  and  not  that 
of  the  more  powerful.  For  these  reasons,  then,  friend 
Thrasymachus,  I  even  just  now  said,  that  no  one  is  will- 
ing to  govern  and  undertake  the  settling  right  of  others' 
troubles  without  asking  a  reward;  because,  whoever  in- 
tends to  practice  his  art  well,  never  himself  does  nor 
enjoins  [on  others]  what  is  best  for  himself,  if  he  enjoins 
according  to  his  art,  but  rather  what  is  best  for  the  gov- 
erned; for  which  reason,  therefore,  as  it  seems  a  recom- 
pense must  be  given  to  those  who  are  likely  to  be  willing 
governors, — either  money,  or  honor,  or  punishment,  on 
the  other  hand  if  a  man  will  not  govern. 

Chap.  XIX.  How  say  you  this,  Socrates  ?  said  Glau- 
con:  the  two  rewards,  indeed,  I  understand;  but  the 
punishment,  that  you  mention,  and  how  you  can  speak 
of  it  under  the  head  of  reward,  I  know  not.  As  for  the 
reward,  then,  of  the  best  of  men,  said  I,  do  you  not  under- 


52 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


stand  why  the  most  worthy  govern,  when  they  are  will- 
ing to  govern :  or,  do  you  not  know,  that  to  be  ambitious 
and  covetous,  is  both  deemed  a  reproach,  and  is  so  ?  I 
do,  said  he.  For  these  reasons,  then,  said  I,  good  men 
are  not  willing  to  govern,  either  for  money  or  for  honor ; 
inasmuch  as  they  neither  wish  to  be  called  mercenary, 
for  openly  making  gain  by  governing, — nor  thieves, 
for  taking  clandestinely  from  what  belongs  to  their 
office:  nor  again  [are  they  willing  to  govern]  for  honor, 
since  they  are  not  ambitious.  Hence  if  they  are 
to  be  induced  to  govern  willingly,  there  must  be  laid 
on  them  both  compulsion  and  punishment;  and  hence 
it  seems  likely,  that  a  willing  undertaking  of  govern- 
ment, without  waiting  for  compulsion,  has  been  reck- 
oned dishonorable.  The  greatest  part  of  the  punishment, 
however,  in  case  he  is  not  willing  to  govern  himself,  is 
the  being  governed  by  one  who  is  inferior.  It  is  chiefly 
through  fear  of  this,  methinks,  that  the  good  govern, 
when  they  do  govern:  and  in  that  case  they  enter  on 
the  government,  not  as  on  anything  good,  or  as  about 
to  derive  any  advantage  therefrom,  but  as  on  a  neces- 
sary task,  and  finding  none  better  than,  or  even  like, 
themselves,  to  intrust  with  the  government.  It  seems 
likely,  indeed,  that  if  there  were  a  state  of  good  men, 
the  contest  would  be,  not  to  govern,  and  now  it  is  to 
govern;  and,  hence,  it  would  be  manifest,  that  the 
really  true  governor  does  not  naturally  aim  at  his  own 
advantage,  but  at  that  of  the  governed;  so  that  any  one 
who  has  sense  would  rather  choose  to  be  benefited  by 
another,  than  have  trouble  in  benefiting  another.  This, 
therefore,  I,  for  my  part,  by  no  means  grant  to  Thrasy- 
machus;  that  justice  is  what  is  expedient  for  the  stronger: 
but  this,  indeed,  we  shall  consider  again  hereafter. 
What  Thrasymachus  says  now,  however,  seems  to  me 
of  much  more  importance, — when  he  says,  that  the  life 
of  the  unjust  man  is  better  than  that  of  the  just.  You, 
then,  Glaucon,  said  I,  which  opinion  do  yovi  choose; 
and  which  of  the  two  seems  to  you  most  consistent  with 
truth  ?  The  life  of  the  just,  said  he,  is  in  my  opinion 
the  more  profitable.  Have  you  heard,  said  I,  how  many 
good  things  Thrasymachus  just  now  enumerated  in  the 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


S3 


life  of  the  unjust  ?  I  heard,  said  he,  but  I  am  not 
persuaded.  Do  you  wish,  then,  that  we  should  persuade 
him  (if  we  can  find  any  means  of  doing  so),  that  there  is 
no  truth  in  what  he  says  ?  How  should  I  not  vish  it  ? 
said  he.  If  then,  by  way  of  opposition,  said  I,  we  advance, 
as  argument  against  argument,  how  many  good  things 
are  involved  in  being  just, —  and  again,  he  on  the  other 
side,  and  we  again  rejoin,  it  will  be  requisite  to  compute 
and  estimate  what  either  of  us  says  on  either  side;  and 
we  shall  want  also  some  judges  to  decide  thereon.  But 
if,  as  just  now,  we  investigate  these  matters,  by  agreeing 
with  each  other,  we  shall  ourselves  be  both  judges  and 
counsel!  Certainly,  said  he.  Which  of  these  plans,  then, 
said  I,  do  you  choose  ?    The  latter,  said  he. 

Chap.  XX.  Come  then,  said  I,  Thrasymachus ;  an- 
swer us  from  the  beginning.  Say  you,  that  complete 
injustice  is  more  profitable  than  complete  justice  ?  As- 
suredly I  do  say  so,  replied  he;  and  why,  too,  I  have 
already  told  you.  Come,  now,  how  can  you  affirm  any- 
thing like  the  following  concerning  them  ?  Do  you  call 
one  of  them  virtue ;  and  the  other  vice  ?  How  not  ?  Is 
not  justice,  then,  a  virtue, —  and  injustice  a  vice  ?  Likely, 
indeed,  that  I  should  say  so,  facetious  man;  since  I  say 
that  injustice  is  profitable,  but  justice  not  so!  What  then  ? 
Quite  the  contrary,  said  he.  Do  you  call  justice  a  vice  ? 
No;  but  a  very  generous  folly.  Do  you,  then,  call  in- 
justice a  want  of  principle  ?  No,  said  he,  but  sagacity. 
Do  the  unjust,  Thrasymachus,  seem  to  you  both  wise  and 
good  ?  Such,  at  least,  said  he,  as  are  able  to  do  injustice 
in  perfection,  and  can  subject  states  and  nations  to  them- 
selves; but  you  think,  perhaps,  that  I  speak  of  cut-purses. 
Even  such  employment  as  this,  said  he,  is  profitable,  if 
concealed;  but  yet  is  of  no  value  in  comparison  with 
what  I  just  mentioned.  I  am  not  ignorant,  said  I,  of 
what  you  mean  to  say:  but  at  this  I  am  surprised, — that 
you  should  reckon  injustice  as  a  part  of  virtue  and  wis- 
dom, and  justice  among  their  contraries.  But,  I  certainly 
do  reckon  it  so.  This,  my  good  friend,  said  I,  is  some- 
what too  hard,  and  it  is  no  longer  easy  to  know  what 
one  can  say :  for  if  you  had  alleged  that  injustice  is  prof- 


54  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


itable,  and  had  still  allowed  it  to  be  a  vice,  or  base,  as 
some  others  do, —  we  should  have  had  something  to  say, 
speaking  according  to  received  opinions.  But  now  it  is 
evident  that  you  will  say  it  is  beautiful  and  strong,  and 
will  attribute  to  it  all  other  properties  which  we  ascribe 
to  the  just  man,  because,  forsooth,  you  have  ventured  to 
class  it  with  virtue  and  wisdom.  You  augur  very  truly, 
said  he.  I  must  not  grudge,  however,  said  I,  to  pursue 
our  inquiry,  so  long  as  I  conceive  you  speak  what  you 
really  think;  for  you  appear  to  me,  Thrasymachus,  without 
doubt;  not  to  be  jesting,  but  only  to  speak  what  you  con- 
ceive to  be  the  truth.  What  difference  is  it  to  you,  said 
he,  whether  I  think  so,  or  not;  and  why  do  you  not 
refute  my  reasoning  ?  No  difference  at  all,  said  I :  but 
try  further  to  reply  to  this  likewise :  does  one  just  man 
appear  to  you  to  wish  to  have  more  than  another  just 
man  ?  By  no  means,  said  he ;  for  otherwise  he  would  not 
have  been  accommodating  and  silly,  as  we  just  conceived 
him.  What;  not  even  in  a  just  action!  No, —  not  even 
in  one  that  is  just,  said  he.  But,  would  he  deem  it  right 
to  overreach  the  unjust  man,  and  reckon  it  just ;  or  would 
he  not  think  it  just  ?  He  would  both  count  it  just,  said 
he,  and  deem  it  right;  but  yet  he  would  not  be  able  [to 
do  it].  That,  said  I,  I  do  not  ask, —  but,  whether  the 
just  man  would  neither  deem  it  right,  nor  feel  a  wish  to 
overreach  a  just  man,  but  yet  would  do  so  to  the  unjust  ? 
Such  is  the  case,  said  he.  What,  then,  would  the  unjust 
man  [  do  ]  ?  Would  he  deem  it  right  to  overreach  the 
just  man,  even  in  a  just  action  ?  How  not,  said  he,  since 
he  deems  it  right  to  overreach  all  men  ?  With  respect, 
then,  to  the  unjust  man  and  unjust  action,  will  not  the 
unjust  man  desire  to  overreach  both;  and  eagerly  strive 
himself  to  receive  most  of  all  ?    Such  is  the  fact. 

Chap.  XXI.  This,  then,  is  what  we  mean,  said  I:  the 
just  man  does  not  try  to  overreach  one  like  himself,  but 
one  that  is  unlike,  while  the  unjust  man  does  so  both  to 
one  like,  and  one  unlike  himself.  You  have  expressed 
yourself  admirably,  said  he.  Well,  then,  said  I,  the  unjust 
man  is  both  wise  and  good;  but  the  just  man  is  neither. 
Well,  again,  said  he.    In  that  case,  said  I,  is  not  the  unju?t 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


55 


man  like  the  wise  and  the  good,  and  the  just  man  unlike  ? 
Of  course,  said  he,  a  person  of  a  certain  character  is  likely 
to  resemble  one  of  like  character ;  and  he  who  is  otherwise, 
not.     Well  said:  such  an  one  then,  of  course,  is  either 
of  those  whom  he  resembles  ?    Why  doubt  it  ?  said  he. 
Granted,  Thrasymachus ;  now  do  you  call  one  man  musi- 
cal, and  another  unmusical  ?    I  do.    Which  of  the  two  do 
you  call  wise,  and  which  unwise  ?    The  musical,  surely, 
wise,  and  the  unmusical  unwise.    As  being  wise,  then,  is 
he  not  good ;  but  as  unwise,  bad  ?    Yes.    And  what  as  to 
the  physician,  is  it  not  the  same  ?    The  same.    Do  you 
think,  then  my  excellent  friend,  that  any  musician,  when 
he  is  tuning  a  harp,  wants  to  overreach,  or  deems  it  right 
to  have  more  skill  than  a  man  who  is  a  musician,  in  strain- 
ing and  slackening  the  strings  ?    Not  I.    But  what  with 
respect  to  one  unmusical  ?    He  could  not  help  it,  said  he. 
And  what  as  to  the  physician  ?    In  prescribing  meats  or 
drinks,  would  he  try  to  overreach  either  another  physician, 
or  the  art  he  professes  ?    No  indeed.    But  one  who  is  no 
physician  [  would  ]  ?    Yes.    Just  consider  then,  as  respects 
all  science  and  ignorance,  whether  any  skillful  man,  be  he 
who  he  may,  appears  to  you  to  have  a  desire  to  grasp  at, 
or  do,  or  say  more  than  another  skillful  man, — and  not 
rather  to  do  the  same  things,  in  the  same  business  as  one 
equally  skillful  with  himself  ?    Aye,  it  seems,  it  must  be 
so,  said  he.    But  what,  as  to  him  who  is  unskilled,  will  not 
he  like  to  overreach  both  alike  the  skillful  and  the  un- 
skilled ?    Probably.    But  the  skillful  man  [  is  ]  wise  ?  I 
admit  it.    And  the  wise,  good  ?    I  admit  it.    Both  the 
good  and  the  wise,  then,  will  not  want  to  overreach  his 
like,  but  rather  one  unlike,  and  contrary  to  himself  ?  It 
seems  so,  said  he.     But  the  bad  and  the  ignorant  man 
[  will  want  to  overreach  ]  both  his  like  and  his  contrary  ? 
It  appears  so.    In  that  case,  Thrasymachus,  said  I;  the 
unjust  man  desires  to  overreach  both  one  unlike  and  one 
like  himself:  did  not  you  say  so?    I  did,  said  he.  The 
just  man,  however,  on  his  side,  will  not  overreach  his  like, 
but  one  unlike  ?    Yes.    The  just  man  then,  said  I,  resem- 
bles the  wise  and  the  good,  but  the  unjust,  the  evil  and  the 
ignorant  ?    It  seems  so.    But  we  agreed,  that  each  of  them 
was  such  as  what  he  resembled  ?    We  did  agree  so.  The 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


just  man,  then,  has  been  clearly  shown  to  be  good  and 
wise,  but  the  unjust  ignorant  and  evil. 

Chap.  XXII.  Thrasymachus  at  last  agreed  to  all  these 
things, — not  easily,  as  I  now  narrate  them,  but  dragged 
to  it,  and  with  difficulty,  and  with  a  wondrous  deal  of 
sweating,  just  as  if  it  was  summer.  Then,  indeed,  did  I 
behold  —  I  never  did  before  —  Thrasymachus  blushing. 
And  after  we  had  agreed  that  justice  was  virtue  and  wis- 
dom, and  injustice,  vice  and  ignorance, — well,  said  I,  let 
this  be  so  settled;  but  we  said  also,  that  injustice  is 
powerful :  do  not  you  remember,  Thrasymachus  ?  I  do 
remember,  said  he;  but  to  me  at  least,  what  you  now 
say  is  not  pleasing,  and  I  have  somewhat  to  say  about 
it;  but  should  I  mention  it,  I  well  know  you  would  say 
I  am  declaiming.*  Eithei",  then,  let  me  say  what  I  please, 
or,  if  you  wish  to  question  me,  do  so,  and  I  will  say  to 
you,  as  to  gossiping  old  women,  Be  it  so, "  and  will 
assent  and  dissent.  Not  by  any  means,  said  I,  if  against 
your  own  opinion.  Just  to  please  you,  said  he,  since  you 
will  not  let  me  speak ;  though  what  else  do  you  wish  ? 
Nothing,  by  Zeus,  said  I ;  but  if  you  will  do  this,  do  it, 
and  I  will  ask  questions.  Ask,  then.  This,  then,  I  ask, 
as  just  now  (that  we  may  regularly  examine  our  argu- 
ment), of  what  quality  is  justice,  compared  with  injus- 
tice ?  For  I  think  it  has  been  said  that  injustice  was 
more  powerful  and  stronger  than  justice.  But  now,  at 
any  rate,  said  I,  if  justice  be  both  virtue  and  wisdom,  it 
will  easily,  methinks,  be  seen  to  be  more  powerful  also 
than  injustice,  since  injustice  is  ignorance;  no  one  can 
any  longer  be  ignorant  of  this.  For  my  part,  however, 
Thrasymachus,  I  am  not  desirous  of  getting  rid  of  the 
question  at  once,  but  to  consider  it  somehow  thus. 
Would  you  say  that  a  state  may  be  unjust,  and  attempt 
to  enslave  other  states  unjustly,  and  have  enslaved  them, 
and  besides  that  actually  hold  many  in  slavery  under  her- 
self ?  How  not  ?  said  he :  and  this  for  the  most  part  the 
best  state  will  do,  and  one  that  is  most  completely  un- 
just.   I  am  aware,  said  I,  that  this  was  your  assertion: 

*A  sly  hit  at  the  Sophists,  of  which  dogmatic  set  Thrasymachus 
is  throughout  a  very  apt  representative. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


57 


but  this  is  what  I  wish  to  inquire;  whether  the  state, 
which  becomes  more  powerful  than  another  state,  is  to 
hold,  this  power  without  justice,  or  must  necessarily  do  so 
with  justice  ?  If  indeed,  as  yovi  now  alleged,  said  he, 
justice  is  wisdom  —  with  justice;  but  if,  as  I  said, — with 
injustice.  I  am  quite  delighted,  Thrasymachus,  said  I, 
that  you  not  merely  assent  and  dissent,  but  also  that  you 
answer  quite  capitally.  For  I  oblige  you,  he  said.  Therein 
doing  well;  oblige  me,  then,  in  this  too,  and  tell  me, — 
think  you  that  a  city,  or  camp,  or  robbers,  or  thieves,  or 
any  other  company  of  men,  such  as  jointly  undertake 
anything  unjustly,  can  meet  with  any  success,  if  they 
injure  one  another.  No,  indeed,  said  he.  But  what,  if 
they  do  no  wrong  ?  Will  they  not  [get  on]  better  ?  Cer- 
tainly. For,  somehow  or  other,  Thrasymachus,  injustice 
induces  seditions,  and  hatreds,  and  contentions  among 
men, — while  justice  [brings]  harmony  and  friendship. 
Does  it  not  ?  Granted,  said  he,  that  I  may  not  differ 
from  you. 

Chap.  XXIII.  You  are  very  kind,  my  excellent  friend, 
then  tell  me  this  too;  if  this  be  the  work  of  injustice 
to  engender  hatred  wherever  it  exists,  will  it  not,  when  exer- 
cised both  among  freemen  and  slaves,  make  them  hate  one 
another,  and  become  seditious  and  incapable  of  doing  any- 
thing in  concert  for  the  common  advantage  ?  Certainly.  But 
what  if  it  happened  in  the  case  of  two  only ;  will  they  not 
differ,  and  hate,  and  become  enemies  both  to  one  another 
and  to  the  just  also  ?  They  will,  said  he.  If  then,  my 
admirable  friend,  injustice  reside  in  a  person, — will  it  lose 
its  power,  or  still  retain  it  ?  It  will  still  retain  it,  he  replied. 
Seems  it  not,  then,  to  have  some  such  power  as  this; 
that,  in  whatever  it  exists,  whether  in  a  city,  or  race,  or 
camp,  or  anywhere  else,  it  first  of  all  renders  it  unable 
to  act  of  itself,  owing  to  seditions  and  differences ;  besides 
which,  it  becomes  an  enemy  not  only  to  itself,  but  to 
every  opponent,  especially  to  the  just  —  is  it  not  so? 
Certainly.  And  methinks,  when  injustice  residing  in  one 
man  will  have  all  these  effects,  which  it  is  natural  for  it 
to  produce,  it  will,  in  the  first  place,  render  him  unable 
to  act,  while  at  variance  and  discord  with  himself:  and, 


58 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


secondly,  as  being  an  enemy  both  to  himself  and  the  just : 
is  it  not  so  ?  Yes.  But,  at  any  rate,  friend,  the  gods 
are  just  ?  Granted,  said  he.  As  respects  the  gods,  then, 
Thrasymachus,  the  unjust  man  will  be  a  foe,  but  the  just 
man  a  friend  ?  Feast  yourself  boldly  on  this  reasoning, 
said  he ;  for  I  will  not  oppose  you,  that  I  may  not  render 
myself  odious  to  those  who  think  so.*  Come  then,  said  I, 
and  satiate  me  with  the  rest  of  the  feast,  by  answering 
as  you  were  doing  just  now:  for  as  respects  the  just  ap- 
pearing wiser  and  better  and  more  able  to  act,  but  the 
unjust  being  capable  of  doing  nothing  in  concert;  and 
besides  that,  as  to  what  we  said  with  reference  to  the  unjust, 
that  they  are  ever  at  any  time  able  strenuously  to  act  in 
mutual  concert, — this  we  advanced  not  quite  correctly, 
for  being  thoroughly  unjust,  they  would  not  spare  one 
another;  but  yet  it  was  evident  that  there  was  a  justice 
in  them,  which  made  them  refrain  at  any  rate  from  injur- 
ing one  another  and  those  of  their  party, — owing  to  which 
they  performed  what  they  did;  and  they  rushed  into  unjust 
actions,  through  injustice,  in  a  kind  of  half-wicked  feeling; 
for  the  completely  wicked  are  both  perfectly  unjust,  and 
also  quite  incapable  of  action:  that  this  is  really  so,  I 
understand,  but  not  in  the  way  that  you  first  defined  it. 
Besides,  whether  the  just  live  better  than  the  unjust,  and 
are  more  happy  (which  we  propose  to  consider  afterward), 
is  now  to  be  considered:  and,  methinks,  they  appear  to 
do  so  even  at  present,  for  what  we  have  said:  but  let 
us  consider  the  matter  still  better;  for  the  discussion  is 
not  about  a  casual  matter,  but  about  the  manner  in  which 
we  ought  to  live. 

Consider,  then,  said  he.  I  am  considering,  said  I; 
and  tell  me,  does  there  seem  to  you  to  be  any  work 
peculiar  to  a  horse  ?  Yes.  Would  you  not  call  that  the 
[peculiar]  work  both  of  a  horse,  and  indeed  of  any  being 
whatever,  which  he  can  do,  or  best  do,  with  him  alone? 
I  do  not  understand,  said  he.  But  thus;  see  you  with 
anything  else  than  the  eyes  ?  Surely  not.  What  then  ? 
Could  you  hear  with  anything  else  than  the  ears  ?  By 
no  means.    Should  we  not,   then,  justly  call  these  the 

*A  clever  way  of  extricating  himself  from  the  dilemma  in  which 
his  general  scepticism  has  involved  him. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


59 


works  peculiar  to  them  ?  Certainly.  And  what — could 
you  not  with  a  sword,  a  knife,  and  many  other  things, 
lop  off  a  vine-branch  ?  How  not  ?  But  with  nothing,  at 
any  rate,  methinks,  so  well  as  with  a  pruning-knife  made 
for  that  purpose.  True.  Shall  we  not  then  define  this 
to  be  its  [peculiar]  work  ?    We   will  so  define  it  then. 

Chap.  XXIV.  Now,  methinks,  you  may  understand 
better  what  I  was  asking  when  I  inquired  whether 
the  work  of  each  be  not  that  which,  of  all  others,  one 
performs  either  alone  or  in  the  best  manner.  I  under- 
stand you,  said  he ;  and  this  seems  to  me  to  be  each 
one's  peculiar  work.  Granted,  said  I :  and  does  there 
not  likewise  appear  to  you  to  be  a  virtue  belonging  to 
everything,  to  which  a  certain  work  is  assigned  ?  But 
let  us  run  over  the  same  ground  once  more:  We  say 
that  the  eyes  have  a  certain  work  ?  Yes.  Is  there  not 
then  a  virtue  belonging  to  the  eyes  ?  A  virtue  also. 
Well,  then,  have  the  ears  a  certain  work  ?  Yes. 
And  of  course  a  virtue  also  ?  A  virtue  also.  And, 
about  all  the  rest ;  is  it  not  thus  ?  It  is.  But, 
hold;  could  the  eyes  ever  cleverly  perform  their 
work,  when  not  possessed  of  their  own  proper  virtue, 
but  vice  instead  of  virtue  ?  How  could  they  ?  said 
he;  for  perhaps  you  mean  blindness  instead  of  sight. 
Whatever,  said  I,  be  their  virtue,  that  I  mean, — for  I 
do  not  yet  enter  on  this  question ;  but  whether  by  their 
own  proper  virtue  they  will  perform  their  own  proper 
work  well,  whatever  they  undertake ;  and  by  vice  badly  ? 
In  this,  at  least,  said  he,  you  speak  the  truth.  And  will 
not  the  ears  also,  when  deprived  of  their  virtue,  per- 
form their  work  ill  ?  Certainly.  And,  are  we  to  settle 
all  other  things  by  the  same  reasoning  ?  So  I  suppose. 
Come  then,  after  this,  consider  what  follows:  has  the 
soul  a  certain  work,  which  you  can  perform  by  no  other 
living  thing,  —  such  as  this,  to  take  care,  to  govern,  to 
consult,  and  all  such  [acts]  ?  Is  there  any  other  than 
the  soul,  to  which  we  can  justly  ascribe  them,  and  say 
they  are  its  proper  functions  ?  No  other.  But  what  of 
this  ?    To  live ;  shall  we  say  it  is  the  work  of  the  soul  ? 

1 


6o 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Most  assuredly,  said  he.  Do  not  we  say,  then,  that  there 
is  some  virtue,  also,  peculiar  to  the  soul  ?  We  do.  And 
can  the  soul,  then,  Thrasymachus,  ever  perform  its  own 
work  cleverly,  whilst  deprived  of  its  proper  virtue ;  or, 
is  this  impossible  ?  Impossible.  Of  necessity,  then,  a 
bad  soul  must  govern  and  take  care  of  things  badly, 
and  a  good  soul  perform  all  these  things  well  ?  Neces- 
sarily so.  Did  we  not  then  agree,  that  justice  was  the 
virtue  of  the  soul,  and  injustice  its  vice  ?  We  did  so 
agree.  The  just  soul  then,  and  the  just  man,  will  live 
well,  and  the  unjust  ill  ?  It  appears  so,  said  he,  accord- 
ing to  your  reasoning.  Surely,  then,  he  who  lives  well 
is  both  blessed  and  happy;  and  he  who  does  not,  the 
opposite  ?  How  not  ?  The  just,  then,  is  happy,  and  the 
unjust  miserable  ?  Granted,  said  he.  But  at  any  rate, 
it  is  not  advantageous  to  be  miserable,  but  happy  ?  How 
not  ?  In  that  case,  excellent  Thrasymachus,  injustice 
is  never  more  profitable  than  justice.  Well,  now,  So- 
crates, said  he,  you  have  been  capitally  well  feasted  at 
these  Bendideia.  Aye,  by  you,  Thrasymachus,  I  cer- 
tainly have;  for  you  are  grown  quite  mild,  and  have 
ceased  to  be  troublesome :  and  if  I  have  not  feasted 
handsomely,  it  is  owing  to  myself,  not  you.  But  just 
as  greedy  guests,  ever  gloating  on  what  is  fresh  brought 
before  them,  taste  thereof,  without  having  properly 
enjoyed  what  went  before, — so  I,  methinks,  without 
having  first  ascertained  what  we  were  before  investigat- 
ing,—  namely  the  nature  of  justice,  have  omitted  this, 
and  rushed  eagerly  forward  to  inquire  concerning  it, 
whether  it  be  vice  and  ignorance,  or  wisdom  and  virtue; 
and  when  an  assertion  was  afterwards  introduced,  that 
injustice  is  more  profitable  than  justice,  I  could  not  re- 
frain from  coming  to  this,  from  the  other;  so  that  now, 
from  this  conversation,  I  have  learnt  nothing  at  all; 
for  since  I  do  not  know  what  justice  is,  I  can  scarcely 
know  whether  it  be  a  virtue  or  not, —  and  whether  he 
who  possesses  it  be  unhappy  or  happy. 


BOOK  II. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  second  book  he  illustrates  justice  by  a  pretty  long  discourse 
about  injustice,  its  contrary,  and  the  social  evils  thence  arising. 
From  such  a  comprehensive  view  of  society  itself  he  is  not  unnatur- 
ally led  into  his  main  argument,  the  subject  of  civil  govern- 
ment ;  carefully  distinguishing  between  the  head  and  the  members 
—  the  governors  and  the  governed;  but  also  bearing  in  mind 
that  society  is  the  stage  on  which  alone  the  virtues  of  the  just 
man  can  be  seen  in  perfection.  The  governors,  says  he,  should 
be  spirited  and  shrewd,  so  as  to  be  able  both  to  repel  the  violence 
of  the  state's  enemies,  and  severely  to  punish  wicked  citizens,  as 
well  as  peaceably  to  maintain  their  own  subjects  or  dependants 
under  the  law's  protection,  and  to  appoint  proper  rewards  for 
virtuous  and  deserving  actions.  The  principal  study  then  should, 
as  respects  a  state,  be  devoted  jointly  to  music  and  gymnastics — 
the  former  referring  to  mental,  the  other  to  bodily  training ;  but 
above  all  these  he  places  religion,  which  though  he  does  not 
statedly  define  it,  yet  he  proves  to  be  wholly  distinct  from  the 
superstition  of  his  own  time. 

Chap.  I.  Having  said  these  things,  I  thought  to  have 
been  relieved  from  the  debate ;  but  this  it  seems  was 
only  the  introduction ;  for  Glaucon  is  on  all  occasions  most 
courageous,  and  then  especially  did  not  approve  of  Thrasy- 
machus's  withdrawal  from  the  debate,  but  said;  Socra- 
tes, have  you  any  desire  of  seeming  to  have  persuaded 
us,  or  to  succeed  in  really  persuading  us  that  it  is  in  every 
respect  better  to  be  just  than  unjust  ?  I,  for  my  part, 
said  I,  would  prefer  to  do  so  in  reality,  if  it  depended 
on  me.  You  are  not  doing  then,  said  he,  what  you  desire; 
for,  tell  me,  does  there  appear  to  you  any  good  of  this 
kind,  such  as  we  would  accept  as  a  possession,  without 
regard  to  its  results,  but  embracing  it  [simply]  for  its 
own  sake;  such  as  joy  and  all  kinds  of  harmless  pleasures,* 
though  for  the  future  no  other  advantage  springs  from  them 

*  a/3Aa/3eZf  means  not  only  harmless  pleasures,  but  those  which 

(6i) 


62 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


than  the  delight  arising  from  their  possession.  To  me, 
indeed,  said  I,  there  does  seem  to  be  something  of  this 
kind.  But  what;  is  there  not  some  species  of  good  which 
we  both  love  for  its  own  sake,  and  also  for  what  springs 
from  it, —  as  wisdom,  sight,  and  health?  for  such  goods 
we  surely  embrace  on  both  accounts.  Yes,  said  I.  But 
do  you  see,  said  he,  a  third  species  of  good, —  among 
which  are  bodily  exercise,  being  healed  when  sick,  the 
practice  of  medicine,  or  any  other  lucrative  employment  ? 
for  these  things,  we  should  say,  are  laborious,  yet  ben- 
eficial to  us,  and  we  should  not  choose  them  for  their  own 
sake,  but  on  account  of  the  rewards  and  other  advantages 
that  spring  from  them.  There  is,  indeed,  said  I,  this  third 
species  also ;  but  what  then  ?  In  which  of  these  species, 
said  he,  do  you  place  justice  ?  I  think,  indeed,  said  I,  in 
the  most  beautiful, — as  being  a  good,  which  both  on  its 
own  account  and  for  what  springs  from  it,  is  desired  by  a 
man  bent  on  being  happy.  It  does  not  seem  so,  how- 
ever, said  he,  to  the  multitude,  but  rather  to  be  of  that 
laborious  kind  which  is  pursued  on  account  of  rewards  and 
honors  [gained]  through  high  repute,  but  on  its  own  ac- 
count to  be  shunned,  as  fraught  with  trouble. 

Chap.  II.  I  am  aware,  said  I,  that  it  seems  so;  and 
it  was  in  this  view,  that  it  was  some  time  since  con- 
demned by  Thrasymachus,  but  injustice  praised;  it  seems, 
however,  that  I  am  one  of  those  who  are  dull  in  learn- 
ing. Come  now,  said  he,  listen  to  me  too,  if  you  please ; 
for  Thrasymachus  seems  to  me  to  have  been  charmed 
by  you  just  like  a  snake,  more  quickly  than  he  ought; 
while,  with  respect  to  myself,  the  proof  has  not  yet  been 
made  to  my  satisfaction  in  either  case,  for  I  desire  to 
hear  what  each  is,  and  what  intrinsic  power  it  has  by 
itself,  when  residing  in  the  soul,  — letting  alone  the  re- 
wards and  what  springs  from  them.    I  will  proceed,  in 

are  pure  and  unalloyed  with  pain.  We  may  remark  here,  that  he 
divides  goods  raayada  into  three  classes, — one,  to  be  pursued  for 
its  own  sake  only,  without  reference  to  advantage, — another,  which 
is  to  be  loved  both  for  its  own  sake,  and  for  the  advantages  thence 
accruing, —  and  a  third,  which  of  itself  perhaps  is  not  worthy  to 
be  pursued,  but  only  on  account  of  the  advantages  thence  accruing. 
In  the  second  or  mixed  class  Socrates  places  justice. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


63 


this  manner,  therefore,  if  it  be  your  pleasure.  I  will  take 
up  Thrasymachus's  argument  in  another  shape ;  and,  first 
of  all,  I  will  tell  you  what  they  say  justice  is,  and  whence 
it  arises  —  and,  secondly,  that  all  who  cultivate  it,  culti- 
vate it  unwillingly,  as  necessary,  but  not  as  good, — and 
thirdly,  that  they  do  this  with  reason,  inasmuch  as,  ac- 
cording to  their  notion,  the  life  of  an  unjust  man  is  much 
better  than  that  of  one  that  is  just.  Though,  for  my  own 
part,  Socrates,  it  by  no  means  appears  so  to  me,  still  I 
am  thrown  into  a  state  of  doubt,  from  having  my  ears 
stunned  by  hearing  Thrasymachtis  and  innumerable 
others .  But  as  for  the  statement  respecting  justice,  that 
it  is  better  than  injustice,  I  have  never  yet  heard  it 
explained  as  I  wish.  I  wish,  therefore,  to  hear  it  eulo- 
gized on  its  own  account,  and  am  quite  of  opinion  that  I 
shall  hear  it  from  you:  wherefore,  by  way  of  opposition, 
I  shall  speak  in  praise  of  an  unjust  life,  and  in  so  speak- 
ing will  show  you  in  what  manner  I  want  to  hear  you  in 
turn  condemn  injustice  and  commend  justice.  But  see 
if  my  proposal  be  agreeable  to  you.  Quite  so,  said  I; 
for  about  what  would  any  man  of  intellect  delight  more 
frequently  to  speak  and  hear  ?  You  speak  excellently 
well,  said  he:  and  now,  as  to  what  I  said  I  would  first 
speak  about,  listen,  both  what  justice  is  and  whence  it 
springs. 

They  say,  forsooth,  that  to  do  injustice  is  naturally 
good,  and  to  suffer  injustice  bad, — but  that  suffering 
injustice  is  attended  with  greater  evil  than  doing  injustice 
with  good;  so  that,  when  men  do  each  other  injustice, 
and  likewise  suffer  it,  and  have  a  taste  of  both,  it  seems 
advantageous  for  those,  who  are  not  able  to  avoid  the 
one  and  choose  the  other,  to  agree  among  themselves 
neither  to  act  unjustly  nor  y^t  to  be  treated  so ;  and  also, 
that  hence  they  began  to  form  for  themselves  laws  and 
compacts,  and  to  call  what  is  enjoined  by  law  lawful  and 
just.  This,  then,  is  the  origin  and  essence  of  justice, — 
a  medium  between  what  is  best,  namely,  when  a  man 
acts  unjustly  with  impunity,  and  what  is  worst,  that  is, 
when  one  injured  is  unable  to  obtain  redress;  and  this 
justice  being  half-way  between  both  these,  is  desired, 
not  as  good,  but  as  being  held  in  honor,  owing  to  an 


64 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


incapacity  for  doing  injustice;  because  the  man  who  had 
ability  to  do  so  would  never,  if  really  a  man,  agree  with 
any  one  neither  to  injure  nor  be  injured;  for  he  would 
be  mad  to  do  so.  This,  then,  Socrates,  and  such  like,  is 
the  nature  of  justice ;  and  such,  as  they  say,  is  the  source 
whence  it  arises. 

Chap.  III.  Again, —  that  those  who  cultivate  it  through 
an  incapability  of  doing  injustice,  cultivate  it  unwillingly, 
we  shall  best  be  made  aware,  if  we  should  mentally  con- 
ceive such  a  case  as  follows :  Let  us  give  full  liberty  to 
each  of  them,  both  the  just  and  the  unjust,  to  do  what- 
ever they  please, — and  then  follow  them,  observing 
whither  inclination  will  lead  each.  We  should  then  detect 
the  just  man  going  the  same  way  with  the  unjust,  through 
a  desire  of  having  more  than  others, —  which  every  nature 
naturally  pursues  as  good,  but  by  law  and  compulsion  is 
led  to  respect  equality.  And  the  liberty  of  which  I  speak 
may  be  chiefly  of  such  a  kind,  as  if  they  possessed  such 
a  power,  as  they  say  once  belonged  to  Gyges  (the  pro- 
genitor of  the  Lydian  king),  and  of  him,  forsooth,  they 
say,  that  he  was  a  hired  shepherd  with  the  then  governor 
of  Lydia,  but  when  a  portion  of  ground  was  torn  up  by 
a  prodigious  rain  and  earthquake,  and  an  opening  made 
in  the  place  where  he  was  grazing  [his  flocks],  that,  in 
astonishment  at  the  sight,  he  descended  and  saw  other 
wonders  besides,  which  men  hand  down  in  fables,  espe- 
cially a  brazen  horse,  hollow,  provided  with  doors,  leaning 
against  which,  he  beheld  inside  a  dead  body,  apparently 
larger  than  that  of  a  man,  and  that  it  had  nothing  else 
except  that  it  wore  a  gold  ring  on  its  hand,  which  he 
took  off  and  came  out.  And  when  there  was  a  meeting 
of  the  shepherds,  as  usual,  for  making  their  monthly 
report  to  the  king  about  their  flocks,  he  also  came  with 
the  ring;  and  while  sitting  with  the  rest,  he  happened  to 
turn  the  stone  of  the  ring  towards  himself  into  the  inner 
part  of  his  hand  and  when  this  was  done,  he  became 
invisible  to  those  who  sat  beside  him,  and  they  talked  of 
him  as  absent :  and  astonished  at  this,  he  again  handled 
his  ring,  turned  the  stone  outward  and  on  turning  it 
became  visible.    On  observing  this,  then,  he  made  trial  of 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


65 


the  ring-  whether  it  had  this  power;  and  it  always  happened 
so,  that  when  he  turned  the  stone  inward  he  became  invis- 
ible,—  when  outward,  visible.  Perceiving  this,  he  in- 
stantly contrived  to  be  made  one  of  the  embassy  to  the 
king;  and  on  his  arrival  he  debauched  his  wife,  and,  with 
her,  assaulted  and  killed  the  king,  and  took  possession  of 
the  kingdom.  If  now,  there  were  two  such  rings,  and  the 
just  man  had  one  and  the  unjust  the  other,  no  one,  we 
should  think,  would  be  so  case-hardened  as  to  persevere 
in  justice  and  dare  to  refrain  from  others'  property  and 
not  touch  it,  when  it  was  in  his  power  both  to  take  fear- 
lessly, even  from  the  market  place,  whatever  he  pleased, 
and  to  enter  houses  and  embrace  any  one  he  pleased, 
— both  to  kill  and  loose  from  chains  whomever  he  pleased, 
—  and  to  do  anything  else  likewise,  as  a  god  among  men: 
acting  in  this  manner  he  would  in  no  respect  differ  from 
the  other,  but  both  would  go  the  same  road.  This,  in 
truth,  one  may  say  is  a  strong  proof,  that  no  one  is  will- 
ingly just,  but  only  by  constraint,  as  if  it  were  not  an 
intrinsic  good,  because  every  one,  where  he  thinks  he 
can,  does  injustice.  Every  man,  then,  thinks  that  injus- 
tice is  intrinsically  much  more  profitable  than  justice, 
thinking  truly,  as  he  says,  who  argues  on  such  a  sub- 
ject as  this:  inasmuch  as,  if  any  one  possessed  of  such  a 
liberty  were  never  to  act  unjustly,  nor  touch  others' 
property,  he  would  be  deemed  by  men  of  sense  to  be 
most  wretched,  and  most  void  of  understanding;  yet 
would  they  praise  him  in  each  others'  presence,  mutually 
deceiving  one  another  through  fear  of  being  injured. 
Thus  much,  then,  concerning  these  things. 

Chap.  IV.  With  respect,  again,  to  the  decision  on  the 
life  of  those  of  whom  we  are  speaking, — if  we  distinguish 
the  supremely  just  and  the  supremely  unjust,  we  shall 
be  able  to  come  to  a  right  judgment, — but  not  otherwise; 
and  what,  then,  is  this  distinction  ?  It  is  this ;  let  us, 
from  the  unjust  man,  take  nothing  of  injustice,  nor  from 
the  just  man,  of  justice ;  but  let  us  make  each  of  them 
perfect  in  his  own  pursuit.  First,  then,  let  the  unjust 
man  act  as  clever  artists  [do].  For  instance,  a  skillful 
pilot  or  physician  comprehends  both  the  possible  and 
impossible  in  his  art,  the  former  of  which  he  attempts, 

5 


66 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


but  relinquishes  the  latter;  and  again  if  he  meet  with 
any  failure,  he  is  able  to  rectify  it;  so,  in  like  manner, 
let  the  unjust  man  when  he  attempts  clever  acts  of  in- 
justice remain  concealed,  if  he  intends  to  be  exceedingly 
unjust;  but,  as  for  him  that  is  caught,  he  must  be  deemed 
worthless;  for  the  most  complete  injustice  is  —  to  seem 
just,  when  not  so.  To  the  completely  unjust,  then,  we 
must  ascribe  the  most  complete  injustice,  and  not  take 
it  from  him,  but  allow  him,  while  doing  the  greatest  in- 
justice, to  win  the  highest  reputation  for  justice;  and,  if 
he  should  fail  at  all,  he  should  be  able  to  rectify  it,  and 
be  capable  of  speaking  persuasively,  if  any  report  of  his 
unjust  deeds  get  abroad,  and  be  able  also  to  effect  by 
force  what  requires  force,  owing  to  his  courage  and 
strength,  and  through  the  instrumentality  of  his  friends 
and  his  wealth ;  supposing  him,  then,  to  be  such  as  this, 
let  us  for  argument  place  in  contrast  with  him  a  just, 
simple-minded,  and  generous-hearted  man,  who,  accord- 
ing to  ^schylus,  desires  less  the  seeming  than  the  reality 
of  goodness:  let  us  take  from  him,  then,  the  mere  seem- 
ing of  goodness,  for,  should  he  seem  just,  honors  and 
rewards  will  be  his  lot,  because  he  merely  seems  so:  and 
thus  [it  may  be]  uncertain  whether  he  be  such  for  the  sake 
of  justice,  or  rewards  and  honors.  Let  him  be  stripped, 
then,  of  everything  but  justice,  and  be  placed  in  direct 
contrast  to  the  other;  without  doing  injustice  too,  let 
him  have  the  reputation  of  doing  the  greatest, —  in  order 
that  he  may  be  put  to  the  test  for  justice,  and  not  be 
moved  to  reproach  and  its  consequences,  but  rather  be 
unchangeable  like  death,  seeming,  indeed,  to  be  unjust 
through  life,  though  really  just ;  and  that  thus  both  arriv- 
ing at  the  extreme, — one  of  justice,  the  other  of  injustice, 
we  may  judge  which  of  the  two  is  the  happier. 

Chap.  V.  Bah,  bah,  said  I,  dear  Glaucon,  how  ex- 
ceedingly anxious  you  are  to  cleanse  each  of  these 
men  for  trial,  just  as  [you  would]  a  statue!  As  much, 
said  he,  as  I  can:  but,  as  they  are  such,  there 
will  be  no  difficulty,  I  suppose,  in  ascertaining  what 
life  will  be  the  lot  of  either.  It  shall  be  told,  then: 
and,  even  if  it  should  be  told  with  more  than  usual 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


67 


■bluntness,  think  not,  that  it  is  I  who  tell  it,  Socrates, 
but  those  who  praise  injustice  before  justice.  This 
then  will  they  say,  that  the  just  man,  thus  situated, 
will  be  scourged,  tortured,  fettered,  have  his  eyes  burnt 
out,  and  lastly,  suffer  all  manner  of  evils,  and  be  cru- 
cified ;  and  he  will  know  too,  that  a  man  should  desire 
not  to  be,  but  to  appear  just.  As  for  that  saying  of 
^schylus,  too,  it  applied  far  better  against  the  unjust 
man:  for  in  reality  men  will  say,  that  the  unjust 
man,  as  being  in  pursuit  of  an  object  connected  with 
truth  and  not  living  according  to  opinion,  has  no 
desire  to  appear,  but  to  be  unjust, — 

Reaping  the  hollow  furrow  of  his  mind, 
Whence  all  his  cherished  councils  blossom  forth. 

In  the  first  place,  he  holds  the  magistracy  in  the  state, 
because  he  is  thought  jtist, —  next,  he  marries  out  of 
whatever  family  he  pleases,  and  gives  his  children  in 
marriage  to  whom  he  pleases,  forms  agreements  and 
joins  in  partnership  with  whom  he  likes, — and,  be- 
sides all  this,  succeeds  in  all  his  projects  for  gain, 
because  he  scruples  not  to  commit  injustice.  When  he 
engages,  therefore,  in  competitions,  he  both  in  private 
and  public  surpasses  and  overreaches  his  adversaries; 
and  by  this  overreaching  gets  rich,  serves  his  friends, 
hurts  his  foes;  and  to  the  gods,  as  respects  sacrifices 
and  offerings,  he  not  only  sufficiently  but  even  mag- 
nificently both  sacrifices  and  makes  offerings,  serving 
far  better  than  the  just  man,  not  only  the  gods,  but 
of  men  also  whomsoever  he  pleases;  so  that  it  is  very 
likely  that  he  should  be  a  greater  favorite  of  the 
gods  than  the  just  man.  Thus,  they  say,  Socrates, 
that  with  gods  and  men  a  better  life  awaits  the  un- 
just than  the  just. 

Chap.  VI.  Glaucon  having  said  this,  I  was  thinking  of 
saying  something  in  reply ;  but  his  brother  Adimantus  said 
—  Do  you  not  think,  Socrates,  that  enough  has  been  al- 
ready said  on  the  matter  ?  What  then  ?  said  I.  The  very 
point  has  not  been  mooted,  said  he,  which  ought  most 
especially  to  have  been  discussed.    Why  then,  said  I,  as 


68 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


the  saying  is,  let  a  brother  help  a  brother, — so  that,  if  he 
fail  at  all,  do  you  help  him  out:  yet,  as  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, what  he  has  alleged  is  quite  sufficient  to  defeat 
me,  and  disable  me  from  defending  justice. 

And  he  in  reply  said:  Oh,  it  is  a  mere  nothing  you 
allege;  but  still  hear  this  in  addition;  for  we  must  go 
through  all  the  arguments  in  opposition  to  what  he  has 
said  [those,  namely],  which  praise  justice  and  condemn 
injustice, — in  order  that  it  may  be  more  clearly  seen, 
what,  I  think,  Glaucon  means:  and  perhaps  parents  tell 
and  exhort  their  sons,  as  all  those  do  who  care  for  them, 
that  they  ought  to  be  just, —  not  commending  justice  for 
itself,  but  for  the  reputation  arising  therefrom;  and 
hence  to  a  man  reputed  to  be  just,  there  may  accrue  from 
that  very  repute  both  state-offices  and  marriage -connec- 
tions, and  whatever  Glaucon  just  now  enumerated  as  the 
consequences  of  being  reputed  just:  these,  however,  carry 
this  notion  of  repute  too  far;  for,  throwing  in  the  ap- 
probation of  the  gods,  they  can  speak  of  abundant  bless- 
iilgs,  which,  they  say,  the  gods  bestow  on  the  holy.  Just 
as  noble  Hesiod  and  Homer  say;  the  former,  that  the 
gods  make  oaks  produce  for  just  men 

Acorns  at  top,  and  in  the  middle  bees  ; 
Their  woolly  sheep  are  laden  thick  with  fleece ; 

and  a  great  many  other  good  things  of  the  same  nature 
—  similarly,  also,  the  latter  : 

[Unrivalled,  like  the  praise]  of  some  great  king, 
Who  o'er  a  numerous  people  and  renown'd 
Presiding  like  a  deity,  maintains 
Justice  and  truth.    The  earth  under  his  sway 
Her  produce  yields  abundantly ;  the  trees 
Fruit-laden  bend ;  the  lusty  flocks  bring  forth ; 
The  ocean  teems  with  finny  swarms  beneath 
His  joint  control,  and  all  the  land  is  blest. 

Musseus,  too,  and  his  son  [Eumolpus]  tell  us,  that  the 
gods  give  just  men  far  more  splendid  blessings  than  these  ; 
for  carrying  them  into  his  poem  into  Hades,  and  placing 
them  at  table  in  company  with  holy  men,  at  a  feast  pre- 
pared for  them,  they  crown  them,  and  make  them  pass  the 
whole  of  their  time  drunken, — deeming  eternal  inebria- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


69 


tlon  to  be  the  best  reward  of  virtue.  Some,  however, 
extend  down  still  further  than  these  the  rewards  from  the 
gods;  for  they  say,  that  children's  children,  and  a  future 
generation  of  the  holy  and  faithful,  are  left  on  earth. 
These,  then,  and  such  as  these,  are  their  eulogies  of  justice. 
As  for  the  unholy  and  tinjust,  however,  they  bury  them 
in  Hades,  in  mud,  and  compel  them  to  carry  water  in  a 
sieve;  and  as  for  those  that  are  yet  living,  if  they  lead 
them  into  wrong  notions,  as  Glaucon  did  in  enumerating 
the  punishments  of  just  persons,  but  reputed  unjust, — 
this  they  can  allege  about  the  unjust,  but  nothing  else. 
The  praise  then  or  blame  belongs  to  either  party  [as  they 
please]. 

Chap.  VII.     In   addition  to  this,   however,  consider, 

Socrates,  another  species  of  argument  about  justice  and 
injustice,  referred  to  both  privately  and  by  poets ;  for  all 
with  one  mouth  celebrate  temperance  and  justice  as  beau- 
tiful, but  still  difficult  and  laborious,  but  intemperance 
and  injustice  as  sweet  and  easy  of  attainment,  though  by 
repute  only  and  law  disgraceful :  and  they  mostly  say, 
that  unjust  are  more  profitable  than  just  actions;  and 
wicked  rich  men,  and  such  as  have  power  of  any  kind, 
either  public  or  private,  they  are  quite  willing  to  pro- 
nounce happy  and  to  honor  both  publicly  and  privately, 
but  to  despise  and  overlook  those  who  may  be  at  all  weak 
and  poor,  even  though  they  acknowledge  them  to  be  bet- 
ter than  the  others.  But  of  all  these  arguments,  the  most 
marvelous  are  those  concerning  the  gods  and  virtue, — 
as  if  it  were  a  matter  of  course,  that  the  gods  allot  mis- 
fortunes and  evil  life  to  many  good  men,  and  to  the 
opposite,  an  opposite  fate.  Pedlar-priests*  also,  and 
prophets,  frequenting  the  gates  of  the  rich,  persuade 
them,  that  they  possess  a  power  granted  them  by  the 
gods,  of  expiating  by  sacrifices  and  incantations  in  the 
midst  of  pleasures  and  feastings,   whatever  injustice  has 

*  The  ayvprai  were  a  species  of  itinerant  sacrificers,  who  went  about 
collecting  money  for  the  expense  of  sacrifices  to  certain  gods  or 
goddesses,  and  contrived  to  eke  out  a  subsistence  by  imposing  on 
the  vulgar,  whom  they  supplied  also  with  nostrums,  and  cheated  with 
lying  prophecies. 


70 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


been  committed  by  any  one,  or  his  forefathers :  and  if  he 
wishes  to  blast  a  foe,  he  can  at  small  expense  injure  the 
just,  as  well  as  the  unjust,  by  certain  blandishments  and 
magic  ties,  persiiading  the  gods  as  they  say,  to  succor 
them :  and  to  all  these  discourses  they  bring  the  poets 
as  witnesses;  who,  mentioning  man's  predisposition  to 
vice,  say, — 

How  vice  at  once  and  easily  we  choose; 
The  way  so  smooth,  its  dwelling  too  so  nigh; 
Toil  before  virtue,  thus  forewill'd  the  gods  —  * 

and  a  certain  road,  both  long  and  steep;  while  others 
make  Homer  witness  as  to  the  persuasive  power  of  men 
over  the  gods,  inasmuch  as  that  poet  says, — 

.    .    .    the  gods 
In  virtue  thy  superiors,  are  themselves 
Yet  placable;  and  if  a  mortal  man 
Offend  by  transgression  of  their  laws. 
Libation,  incense,  sacrifice,  and  prayers 
In  meekness  offer'd  turn  their  wrath  away. 

They  bring  forward,  too,  a  crowd  of  books  of  Musseus 
and  Orpheus,  the  offspring  of  the  Moon  and  the  Muses, 
as  they  say,  in  accordance  with  which  they  perform  their 
sacred  rites,  persuading  not  only  private  individuals,  but 
states  likewise,  that  both  absolutions  and  purgations  from 
iniquities  are  effected  by  sacrifices,  and  sportive  pleasures, 
—  and  this,  too,  for  the  benefit  of  the  living  as  well  as 
the  dead;  which  purgations  they  call  mysteries,  which 
absolve  us  from  the  evils  of  another  life, — whereas  a 
dreadful  fate  awaits  those  who  perform  no  sacrifice. 

Chap.  VIII.  As  respects  all  such  and  so  much  as 
has  been  said,  dear  Socrates,  about  virtue  and  vice,  and 
what  reward  both  men  and  gods  attach  thereto, — what 
do  we  suppose  the  souls  of  our  youth  do  when  they  hear 
them,  such  at  least  as  are  of  good  natural  parts,  and  able 
to  rush,  as  it  were,  to  all  that  is  said,  and  thence  infer 
in  what  sort  of  character,  and  by  what  procedure  one 
may  best  pass  through  life  ?  He  might  probably  say  to 
himself,  according  to  Pindar: 

*  Hes,  Op.  et  D.  v.  285-288 ;  and  they  are  cited  also  in  the  Laws, 
iv,  p.  718,  e. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Shall  I  yon  rampart,  loftier  far 
Than  justice,  dare  ascend, — or  crooked  fraud 

Invite,  to  cheat  the  world,  and  thus 
Myself  live  cased  in  guilt's  base  panoply? 

For  what  is  said  happens  to  me,  if  I  am  just,  though  I 
am  not  reputed  so,  they  say  it  is  no  profit,  but  clearly, 
mere  trouble  and  punishment, —  whereas  the  unjust  man, 
who  has  procured  for  himself  the  reputation  of  justice, 
is  said  to  have  a  divine  life.  Since  then,  as  the  sages 
tell  me,  appearance  both  does  violence  to  reality,  and  is 
the  arbiter  of  happiness,  I  ought  surely  to  turn  wholly 
thereto,  drawing  round  myself,  as  a  covering  and  picture, 
an  image  of  virtue,  but  still  dragging  after  me  the  cunning 
and  versatile  fox  of  that  very  clever  Archilochus.*  Per- 
haps, however,  someone  will  say, — it  is  not  easy  for  a 
bad  man  always  to  practice  his  wickedness  in  secret. 
Neither  is  any  thing  else  easy  (will  we  say)  of  important 
matters:  but  still,  would  we  be  happy,  thither  we  must 
go  where  the  tracks  of  reasoning  lead  us:  for,  with  a 
view  to  concealment,  we  shall  form  conspiracies  and  asso- 
ciations; and  there  are  masters  of  persuasion,  who  teach 
a  popular  and  forensic  wisdom, — by  which,  partly  through 
persuasion  and  partly  by  force,  we  may  escape  punish- 
ment after  all  our  overreaching.  However,  it  is  not  pos- 
sible either  to  escape  the  notice  of  the  gods,  or  to 
overpower  them. 

Wherefore,  if  they  have  no  existence,  and  have  no  care 
about  human  affairs,  neither  need  we  care  about  con- 
cealment; and  as  respects  their  existence  and  care  for  us, 
we  neither  know  nor  have  heard  of  them  otherwise  than 
from  traditions,  and  from  the  poets  who  write  their 
genealogies;  and  these  very  persons  tell  us,  that  they 
are  to  be  moved  and  persuaded  by  sacrifices  and  pro- 
pitiatory vows,  and  offerings,  —  both  of  which  we  are  to 
believe,  or  neither.  If,  however,  we  are  to  believe  both, 
we  may  do  injustice,  and  offer  sacrifice  from  the  fruits  of 
unjust  deeds.    For  if  we  be  just,  we  shall  escape  punish- 

*  That  is,  apparently,  virtue;  but,  in  reality,  mere  cunning. 
Archilochus  has  written  more  than  one  piece,  in  which  the  fox  plays 
the  part  of  a  cunning  and  deceitful  personage.  See  Archil.  Fragm. 
ed.  Gaisf.  i.  pp.  307,  308. 


72 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


ment  from  the  gods,  and  then  deprive  ourselves  of  the 
gains  of  injustice:  but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  be  unjust, 
we  shall  make  gain,  and  after  transgressing  and  offending 
shall  appease  them  by  prayers,  and  so  escape  punishment. 
Nevertheless,  we  shall  suffer  in  Hades  the  punishment  of 
our  misdeeds  here,  either  ourselves,  or  our  children's 
children.  But  the  reasoner  may  say,  Friend,  the  mys- 
teries again  can  do  much,  and  the  gods  who  expiate, — as 
say  the  mightiest  states,  and  those  children  of  the  gods, — 
the  poets  and  prophets,  who  declare  that  these  things 
are  so. 

Chap.  IX.  For  what  reason,  then,  should  we  prefer 
justice  before  the  greatest  injustice  ?  Should  we  acquire 
it  by  any  unfair  pretenses,  we  shall,  both  with  reference 
to  gods  and  men,  fare  according  to  our  wishes  both  in  life 
and  death,  as  we  are  told  by  the  sayings  both  of  the  mul- 
titude and  the  learned,  too.  From  all  that  has  been  said, 
then,  Socrates,  how  shall  a  man  contrive  to  acquire  a  will 
for  honoring  justice,  who  has  any  power  of  mind  or 
wealth,  or  body,  or  birth,  and  not  rather  laugh  at  hear- 
ing its  praises  ?  Although,  therefore,  a  man  may  be  able 
even  to  show  what  we  have  said  to  be  false,  and  fully 
knows  that  justice  is  best,  he  will,  perhaps,  greatly  excuse 
and  not  be  angry  with  the  unjust,  because  he  knows,  that 
unless  a  man  through  a  divine  instinct  abhor  injustice,  or 
from  knowledge  abstain  from  it,  —  of  all  the  rest  not  one 
is  willingly  just,  but  either  through  cowardice,  old  age,  or 
some  other  weakness,  condemns  injustice,  when  unable  to 
to  do  it.  That  it  is  so,  is  plain;  for  the  first  of  such 
persons,  who  arri^-es  at  the  power,  is  the  first  to  commit 
injustice,  as  far  as  he  is  able. 

The  reason  of  all  this,  again,  is  no  other  than  that,  from 
whence  all  this  discussion  set  out  between  my  brother  and 
me  and  you,  Socrates,  because,  among  all  of  you,  my 
wonderful  man,  who  call  yourselves  the  eulogists  of  jus- 
tice, from  these  ancient  heroes  downwards,  of  all  whose 
arguments  are  left  to  the  men  of  the  present  time,  no  one 
has  ever  yet  condemned  injustice,  nor  praised  justice, 
otherwise  than  as  respects  the  repute,  honors,  and  emolu- 
ments arising  therefrom ;  while,  as  respects  either  of  them 


THE  REPUBLIC  OP  PLATO 


73 


in  itself,  and  subsisting  by  its  own  power  in  the  soul  of 
the  possessor,  and  concealed  both  from  gods  and  men,  no 
one  has  yet  sufficiently  investigated,  either  in  poetry  or 
prose-writing, — how,  namely,  that  the  one  is  the  greatest 
of  all  the  evils  that  the  soul  has  within  it,  and  justice  the 
greatest  good:  for  had  it  from  the  beginning  been  thus 
stated  by  you  all,  and  you  had  so  persuaded  us  from  our 
youth,  we  should  not  need  to  guard  against  injustice  from 
our  fellows,  but  every  man  would  be  the  best  guardian 
over  himself,  through  fear,  lest  by  doing  injustice  he 
should  dwell  with  the  greatest  evil.  These  things,  Socra- 
tes, and,  perhaps  also,  yet  more  than  these,  Thrasymachus, 
and  others,  too,  might  say  respecting  justice  and  injustice, 
perverting  their  power,  disagreeably  as  I  conceive:  but, 
I,  for  I  wish  to  conceal  nothing  from  you,  am  very  anxious 
to  hear  your  refutation,  and  so  say  the  most  I  can  by  way 
of  opposition.  Do  not,  therefore,  merely  show  us  in  your 
reasoning,  that  justice  is  better  than  injustice,  but  in  what 
way  each  by  itself  affects  the  mind,  the  one  as  in  itself 
evil,  and  the  other  as  good;  and  put  out  of  the  question 
mere  opinion,  as  Glaucon  recommended;  for  if  you  do  not 
set  aside  the  true  opinions  on  both  sides,  and  add  those 
that  are  false,  we  will  say  you  do  not  praise  justice,  but  its 
appearance,  and  do  not  condemn  injustice,  but  its  appear- 
ance,—  advising  the  unjust  man  to  hide  himself,  and  agree- 
ing with  Thrasymachus  that  justice  is  a  foreign  good 
expedient  for  the  more  powerful,  while  injustice  is  what 
is  expedient  and  profitable  for  one's  self,  but  inexpedient 
for  the  inferior.  Since,  then,  you  have  granted  that  justice 
is  one  of  those  greatest  goods,  which  on  account  of  their 
results  are  worthy  to  be  possessed,  but  yet  far  more  in 
themselves  for  their  own  sake, —  such  as  sight,  hearing, 
wisdom,  health,  and  all  other  genuine  goods,  such  as  are 
so  in  their  own  nature,  and  not  merely  in  opinion;  for 
this  very  reason  we  may  praise  justice,  as  intrinsically,  in 
itself,  profitable  to  its  owner,  and  injustice  harmful;  but 
as  for  rewards  and  repute,  let  others  sing  their  praises. 
I  could  endure,  perhaps,  that  the  rest  of  the  world  should 
thus  praise  justice  and  condemn  injustice,  complimenting 
and  reviling  the  opinions  and  rewards  that  concern  them ; 
but  certainly  [  I  could  not  endure]  it  in  you  (except  you 


74 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


absolutely  require  it),  because  you  have  passed  the  whole 
of  life,  engaged  in  no  other  inquiry  but  this.  Show  us, 
then,  in  course  of  the  discussion,  not  only  that  justice  is 
better  than  injustice,  but  also  what  either  intrinsically  by 
itself  makes  its  owner,  whether  concealed  or  not  from  gods 
and  men,  the  one  being  good,  and  the  other  evil. 

Chap.  X.  On  hearing  this,  pleased,  as  I  always  am, 
with  the  disposition  of  Glaucon  and  Adimantus,  I  was 
then,  in  particular,  perfectly  delighted,  and  replied:  O 
sons  of  that  worthy  sire  [the  Sophist]  with  good  reason 
does  the  lover  of  Glaucon  thus  begin  his  elegies  [which 
he  made]  on  you,  when  you  distinguished  yourselves  in 
the  battle  of  Megara. 

Ariston's  sons!  of  sire  renown'd  afar, 
That  race  divine    .    .  . 

This,  friends,  seems  well  observed;  for  you  must  be 
under  some  influence  quite  divine,  if  you  are  not  per- 
suaded that  injustice  is  better  than  justice,  when  you  can 
thus  speak  in  its  defense.  Still,  methinks,  you  are  not 
really  persuaded;  and  I  reason  from  the  rest  of  your  be- 
havior; because,  according  to  your  mode  of  talking,  I 
should  certainly  have  disbelieved  you:  but  the  more  I 
trust  you,  the  more  I  anl  at  a  loss,  as  to  the  kind  of 
argument  I  should  use.  I  know  not,  indeed,  how  I  am 
to  defend  it, — as  I  seem  unable;  and  the  proof  of  it  is, 
that,  as  respects  what  I  thought  I  had  clearly  shown  in 
arguing  with  Thrasymachus,  that  justice  is  better  than 
injustice,  you  did  not  admit  my  proofs;  nor,  on  the 
other  hand,  have  I  any  excuse  for  not  defending  it;  be- 
cause I  fear  it  may  be  impious  to  abandon  justice,  and 
see  it  accused  when  I  am  present,  without  defending  it, 
so  long  as  I  have  breath  and  am  able  to  speak.  It  is 
best,  then,  to  assist  it  in  such  a  manner  as  I  can.  Here- 
upon Glaucon  and  the  rest  entreated  me  by  all  means  to 
defend  it,  and  not  relinquish  the  discussion,  but  rather 
investigate  thoroughly  the  nature  of  each,  and  what  the 
truth  is,  as  to  their  respective  advantages.  I  then  stated 
what  I  thought, — that  the  inquiry  we  were  attempting 
was  no  trifling  one,  but  one,  as  appears  to  me,  suited  for 


THE  REPUBLIC  OP  PLATO 


75 


sharp-sighted  persons.  Since,  then,  said  I,  we  are  not 
very  expert,  it  seems  proper  to  make  such  an  investiga- 
tion of  it,  as  if  a  person  should  order  persons  not  very 
sharp-sighted  to  read  small  letters  at  a  distance,  and  then 
find  out  that  the  same  letters  are  rather  larger  elsewhere, 
and  in  a  larger  field;  it  would  then  appear  desirable, 
methinks,  first  to  read  these,  and  then  examine  the  lesser, 
whether  they  happen  to  be  the  same.  By  all  means,  said 
Adimantus.  But  what  analogy  do  you  perceive,  Socrates, 
in  the  inquiry  about  justice?  I  will  tell  you,  said  I: 
do  we  not  say  that  justice  affects  an  individual  man  and 
an  entire  state  also  ?  Certainly,  replied  he.  Is  not  a  state 
a  greater  object  than  an  individual  ?  Greater,  said  he. 
Perhaps,  then,  justice  will  be  more  fully  developed  in 
what  is  greater,  and  also  more  easily  intelligible :  we  will 
first,  then,  if  you  please,  inquire  what  it  is  in  states;  and 
then,  we  will  in  like  manner  examine  it  in  the  individual, 
searching  for  the  similitude  of  the  greater  in  the  idea  of 
the  less.  Yes, — you  seem  to  me,  said  he,  to  speak  rightly. 
If,  then,  said  I,  we  contemplate  in  argument  the  rise  of 
a  state,  shall  we  not  also  perceive  the  rise  of  justice  and 
injustice  ?  Perhaps  so,  said  he.  Well,  then,  if  this  be 
the  case,  is  there  no  ground  for  hoping  that  we  shall 
more  easily  find  the  object  of  our  inquiry  ?  Just  so. 
Does  it  not  seem,  then,  that  we  ought  to  try  after  suc- 
cess ?  for  I  imagine  this  is  a  work  of  no  small  impor- 
tance. Consider  then.  We  have  considered,  said  Adi- 
mantus, and  do  you  the  same. 

Chap.  XI.  A  state  then,  said  I,  takes  its  rise,  methinks, 
— because  none  of  us  individually  happens  to  be  self- 
suflficient,  but  stands  in  need  of  many  things;  do  you 
think  that  there  is  any  other  origin  of  the  settlement  of 
a  state  ?  None,  said  he.  Thus,  then,  one  assisting  one 
person  for  the  want  of  one  thing,  and  another  another 
for  the  want  of  another,  as  we  stand  in  need  of  many 
things,  we  collect  into  one  dwelling  many  companions  and 
assistants,  and  to  this  joint  dwelling  we  give  the  name 
of  city ;  do  we  not  ?  Certainly.  One  then  imparts  to 
another,  if  he  does  impart  anything,  or  receives  in  ex- 
change, thinking  it  will  be  for  his  advantage  ?  Certainly, 


76 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Come  then,  said  I,  let  us,  for  argument's  sake,  form  a 
city  from  the  beginning;  our  necessity,  as  it  seems,  will 
form  it  ?  Of  course.  But  the  first  and  the  greatest  of 
wants  is  the  provision  of  food,  in  order  that  we  may 
subsist  and  live  ?  Assuredly.  The  second  is  of  lodging, 
the  third  of  clothing,  and  the  like  ?  Just  so.  But  come, 
said  I,  how  will  the  city  be  able  to  make  so  great  a  pro 
vision  ?  Shall  not  one  be  a  husbandman,  another  a  builder, 
a  third  a  weaver;  and  must  we  not  add  to  them  a  shoe- 
maker, or  some  one  else  of  those  that  minister  to  our 
bodily  wants  ?  Certainly.  The  state  then,  that  is  most 
in  need,  will  consist  of  only  four  or  five  men  ?  It  appears 
so.  What  then  ?  must  each  of  these  contribute  his  work 
for  the  whole  in  common  ? —  as,  for  instance,  must  the  hus- 
bandman, though  only  one,  provide  food  for  four,  and 
spend  fourfold  time  and  labor  in  providing  food  and 
sharing  it  with  others;  or  is  he,  without  any  care  for 
them,  to  prepare  for  himself  alone  the  fourth  part  of 
this  food  in  the  fourth  part  of  the  time,  while  of  the 
other  three  parts  of  his  time,  he  employs  one  in  the  pro- 
viding a  house,  another  clothing,  the  other  shoes, — 
and  not  trouble  himself  to  share  with  others,  but  give 
his  whole  attention  to  his  own  affairs  ?  And  Adimantus 
said  —  Aye.  but  perhaps  the  former  way,  Socrates,  is 
easier  than  the  latter.  By  Zeus,  that  is  not  amiss,  said 
I :  for,  while  you  are  speaking,  I  am  thinking  that  first 
of  all  we  are  born  not  each  perfectly  alike  to  each,  but 
differing  in  disposition, — one  fitted  for  doing  one  thing, 
and  another  for  another :  does  it  not  seem  so  to  you  ? 
It  does.  What  then  ?  Will  a  man  do  better,  when,  as 
a  single  individual,  he  works  in  many  arts,  or  only  in 
one  ?  When  one  works  in  one,  said  he.  This,  moreover, 
is  also  plain,  methinks;  that  if  one  miss  the  seasonable 
time  for  any  work,  it  is  ruined  ?  Clearly.  Aye, —  for 
the  work,  methinks,  will  not  wait  on  the  leisure  of  the 
workman,  but  the  workman  must  necessarily  attend  closely 
on  his  work,  not  in  the  way  of  a  by-job  ?  He  must. 
And  hence  more  will  be  done,  and  better,  and  with  greater 
ease,  when  every  one  does  but  one  thing,  according  to 
his  genius,  at  the  proper  time,  and  when  at  leisure  from 
all  other  pursuits.    Quite  so,  said  he.    Surely,  Adimantus, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


77 


we  need  more  citizens  than  four  for  the  provisions  that 
we  mentioned:  for  the  husbandman,  it  seems,  will  not 
himself  make  his  own  plow,  if  it  is  to  be  good,  nor  yet  a 
spade  or  any  other  instruments  of  agriculture:  neither, 
again,  will  the  builder, —  for  he,  likewise,  needs  many 
things;  and  in  the  same  way,  the  weaver  also  and  the 
shoemaker:  is  it  not  so?  True.  Carpenters,  then,  and 
smiths,  and  many  other  such  workmen,  by  becoming  mem- 
bers of  our  little  city,  make  it  throng  ?  Certainly.  Yet 
it  would  be  no  very  great  matter,  either,  if  we  added  to 
them  herdsmen  also,  and  shepherds,  and  all  other  sorts 
of  graziers, —  in  order  that  both  the  husbandmen  may 
have  oxen  for  plowing,  and  the  builders  by  aid  of  the 
husbandmen  may  have  cattle  for  their  carriages,  and  the 
weavers  also,  and  shoemakers,  hides  and  wool.  Yet  it 
would  be  no  very  small  city,  said  he,  that  had  all  these. 
Moreover,  said  I,  it  is  all  but  impossible  to  settle  the  city 
itself  in  such  a  place  that  it  will  not  require  imported 
goods.  Impossible.  Surely,  then,  it  will  require  others 
in  addition,  to  bring  to  it  what  it  needs  from  other 
cities.  It  will  require  them.  And,  moreover,  if  the 
servant  were  to  go  empty,  taking  with  him  nothing  that 
they  need  from  whom  what  they  themselves  require  is 
imported,  he  will  return  empty ;  will  he  not  ?  I  think  so. 
It  is  necessary  for  them,  then,  not  only  to  produce  what 
is  sufficient  for  themselves,  but  such  and  as  many  things 
also,  as  are  required  by  those  whose  services  they  require. 
It  ought.  Otir  city,  then,  certainly  wants  many  more  hus- 
bandmen and  other  kinds  of  workmen.  Aye,  many  more. 
And  all  other  servants  besides,  to  import  and  export  the 
several  articles ;  and  these  are  merchants,  are  they  not  ? 
Yes.  We  shall  want  merchants  then,  as  well  ?  Certainly. 
And  if  the  traffic  is  carried  on  by  sea,  it  will  want  many 
others  besides,  skilled  in  navigation.    Many  others,  truly. 

Chap.  XII.  What  then  in  the  city  itself,  how  will 
they  exchange  with  one  another  what  each  has  produced 
for  the  sake  of  which,  we  have  formed  a  city  and  estab- 
lished a  community  ?  It  is  plain,  said  he,  that  by  selling 
and  buying  [they  will  do  so].  A  market-place,  therefore, 
and  an  established  coinage,  as  a  symbol  for  the  purposes 


78 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


of  exchange,  must  spring  up  from  hence.  Certainly.  If 
then  the  husbandman,  or  any  other  workman,  bring  any 
of  his  work  to  the  market,  but  does  not  come  at  the  same 
time  as  those  who  want  to  make  exchanges  with  him, 
will  he  not,  while  sitting  in  the  market,  be  unoccupied 
at  his  trade  ?  By  no  means,  said  he ;  for  there  are  some, 
who,  observing  this,  devote  themselves  to  this  service  and, 
in  well-regulated  cities,  they  are  chiefly  such,  as  are  weakest 
in  body  and  unfit  for  any  other  work ;  these  then  should 
attend  about  the  market,  to  give  money  in  exchange  for 
what  people  wish  to  sell,  and  goods  in  exchange  for 
money  to  such  as  want  to  buy.  It  is  this  want,  said  I, 
that  provides  our  city  with  a  race  of  shopkeepers ;  for  do  we 
not  call  those  shopkeepers,  who  sit  in  the  market,  and  serve 
both  in  selling  and  buying ;  whereas  such  as  travel  to  other 
cities  we  call  merchants  ?  Certainly.  There  are  certain  other 
servants  still,  I  conceive,  who,  though  as  regards  intellectual 
power  unworthy  to  be  taken  into  society,  yet  possess  bodily 
strength  adequate  for  labor ;  and  these  selling  the  use  of  their 
strength,  and  calling  the  reward  of  it  higher,  are  called,  I 
think,  hired  laborers;  are  they  not  ?  Just  so.  Hired 
laborers  then,  as  it  seems,  form  the  complement  of  a 
city.  Aye,  it  seems  so.  Has  our  city  then,  Adimantus, 
so  increased  on  us  already,  as  to  be  complete  ?  Perhaps. 
Where,  then,  will  justice  and  injustice  be  placed  in  it; 
and,  in  which  of  the  matters  that  we  have  considered  is 
it  engendered  ?  I  do  not  know,  said  he,  Socrates,  unless 
it  be  somehow  in  a  certain  use  of  these  very  things  with 
one  another.  Perhaps,  said  I,  you  are  right:  but  yet  we 
must  consider  the  point,  and  not  avoid  it.  First,  then, 
let  us  consider  how  the  persons  thus  procured  are  to  be 
supported.  In  making  bread  and  wine,  and  clothes,  and 
shoes,  and  building  houses,  will  they  not  work  in  summer, 
chiefly  without  clothes  and  shoes,  but  in  winter,  sufficiently 
clad  and  shod  ?  and  will  they  be  supported  partly  on  barley 
made  into  meal,  and  partly  on  wheat  made  into  loaves, 
partly  boiled  and  partly  toasted,  with  fine  loaves  and 
cakes  placed  over  a  fire  of  stubble  or  dried  leaves,  and 
will  they  feast,  they  and  their  children,  resting  on  couches 
strewed  with  smilax  and  myrtle  leaves, — drinking  wine, 
crowned,    and    singing  to    the  gods,   pleasantly  living 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


79 


together,  begetting-  children  not  bej  ond  their  means,  and 
cautiously  guarding  against  poverty  or  war  ? 

Chap.  XIIL  Glaucon  then,  in  answer,  said:  You  make 
the  men  feast,  it  seems,  without  esculents.*  You  say 
true,  said  I:  I  forgot  that  they  were  to  have  esculents 
too;  and  they  will  clearly  have  salt,  and  olives,  and 
cheese,  and  will  boil  bulbous  roots,  and  potherbs,  such 
as  are  cooked  in  the  fields:  and  we  will  set  before  them 
desserts  of  figs,  peas,  and  beans;  and  they  will  toast  at 
the  fire  myrtleberries  and  beechnuts,  drinking  in  mod- 
eration; and  thus  passing  their  life  in  peace  healthily, 
they  will  die  in  old  age,  probably,  and  leave  a  similar 
mode  of  life  to  their  children.  Socrates,  said  he,  if  you 
had  been  making  a  city  of  hogs,  on  what  else  but  these 
would  you  have  fed  them  ?  But  what  ought  we  to  do 
then,  Glaucon  ?  said  I.  What  is  usual,  said  he :  let  them 
lie  down  on  beds,  I  think,  unless  they  are  to  live  miser- 
ably, and  take  their  meals  from  tables,  and  have  escu- 
lents, as  the  present  men  have,  and  desserts.  Be  it  so, 
said  I:  I  understand.  We  are  considering,  it  seems, 
not  only  how  a  city,  but  how  a  luxurious  city  may  exist ; 
and  perhaps  it  is  not  amiss:  for,  in  considering  one  of 
this  character,  we  may  probably  see  how  justice  and 
injustice  arise  in  cities.  But  the  true  city,  which  we 
have  lately  described,  seems  to  me  just  like  a  person 
that  is  in  health;  but  if  you  are  desirous  that  we  should 
inspect,  also,  a  city  that  is  inflated,  there  can  be  no  objec- 
tion to  it :  for  these  things  [that  concern  a  merely  simple 
mode  of  life]  will  not  of  course  suffice  for  some,  nor  will 
this  sort  of  life  satisfy  them;  but  there  must  be  beds, 
tables,  and  all  other  articles  of  furniture, —  seasonings, 
unguents,  and  perfumes,  mistresses,  confections,  and 
many  miscellaneous  articles  of  this  description.  And 
especially  as  to  what  we  before  mentioned,  we  must  no 
longer  consider  these  as  alone  necessary, — namely,  houses, 
and  clothes,  and  shoes;  but  we  must  set  in  operation 

*  The  Greek  &->pov  is  not  to  be  translated,  except  by  a  periphrasis. 
It  strictly  means  boiled  meat,  as  opposed  to  bread, — but  more  gener- 
ally, as  here,  anything  eaten  with  bread  or  other  food  to  give  it  flavor 
and  relish. 


8o 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


painting  too,  and  all  the  refined  arts,  and  must  possess 
gold  and  ivory,  and  all  things  of  that  kind ;  must  we  not  ? 
Yes,  said  he. 

Chap.  XIV.  Must  we  not,  then,  increase  the  size  of 
our  city  ?  For  that  healthy  one  is  no  longer  sufficient, 
but  already  full  of  repletion  and  abundance  of  such  things 
as  are  in  nowise  requisite  for  cities, —  such  as  all  kinds  of 
sportsmen,  and  imitative  artists,  rnany  of  whom  imitate  in 
figures  and  colors,  and  many  in  music:  poets,  too,  and 
their  assistants,  rhapsodists,  actors,  dancers,  contractors, 
and  manufacturers  of  all  sorts  of  trinkets,  especially  of 
those  belonging  to  female  attire ;  and  in  that  case,  too, 
we  shall  require  many  more  servants ;  and  think  you  not 
they  will  require  teachers,  nurses,  tutors,  hair-dressers, 
barbers,  confectioners  too,  and  cooks  ?  Aye,  and  further 
still,  we  shall  want  swine-herds.  Of  these,  indeed,  there 
were  none  in  the  other  state  (for  there  needed  none) ;  but 
in  this  we  shall  need  these  also;  and  shall  require,  too, 
many  other  sorts  of  cattle,  if  any  one  eats  them ;  shall  we 
not  ?  Of  course.  Shall  we  not,  then,  in  this  mode  of  life, 
require  physicians  far  more  than  in  the  former  one  ? 
Much  more. 

And  the  land,  perhaps,  which  at  first  sufficed  to  support 
the  inhabitants,  will  instead  of  being  sufficient,  become 
too  little ;  or  how  shall  we  say  ?  Just  so,  said  he.  Must 
we  not  then  cut  off  a  part  from  the  neighboring  country, 
if  we  would  have  enough  for  arable  and  pasture,  and 
they  in  turn  from  ours,  if  they  on  their  part  devote  them- 
selves to  the  accumulation  of  boundless  wealth,  going 
beyond  the  limits  of  mere  necessity? 

We  must,  Socrates,  said  he.  Shall  we  go  to  war  after- 
wards, Glaucon,  or  how  shall  we  do  ?  Certainly,  said  he. 
But  let  us  not  yet,  said  I,  consider  the  question,  whether 
war  produces  harm  or  good, — but  thus  much  only,  that  we 
have  found  the  origin  of  war,  and  whence  especially  arise 
mischiefs  to  cities,  both  privately  and  publicly.  Aye,  in- 
deed. We  shall  require,  then,  friend,  a  still  larger  city, — 
not  for  a  small,  but  for  a  large  army,  which  may  go  out 
and  fight  with  those  who  assail  it,  for  their  whole  sub- 
stance and  everything  that  we  have  now  mentioned.  What, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


8i 


said  he,  are  not  these  sufficient  to  fight?  No,  said  1;  not 
if  you  and  all  of  us  were  rightly  agreed,  when  we  formed 
our  state:  and  we  agreed,  if  you  remember,  that  it  was 
impossible  for  a  single  person  to  practice  many  arts  well. 
True,  said  he.  What  then,  said  I,  do  not  struggles  in  war 
seem  to  require  art  ?  Very  much  so,  said  he.  Ought  we, 
then,  to  take  more  care  of  the  shoemaking-  art  than  that  of 
warfare  ?  By  no  means.  But  we  charged  the  shoemaker 
not  to  attempt  to  be  at  the  same  time  a  husbandman,  or  a 
weaver,  or  a  builder,  in  order  that  the  work  of  shoemaking 
might  be  well  done ;  and  in  like  manner  we  allotted  to 
each  of  the  others  a  single  calling,  to  which  each  was 
adapted  by  nature,  and  at  which,  each  by  abstaining  from 
the  rest,  and  applying  to  it  the  whole  of  his  life,  and  not 
neglecting  the  proper  opportunities,  he  would  be  likely  to 
work  well;  but  is  it  not  of  the  greatest  importance  that 
what  concerns  war  should  be  well  performed  ?  or  is  it  so 
easy  that  one  who  is  a  husbandman  may  also  be  a  soldier, 
and  a  shoemaker,  and  one  who  practices  any  other  art, — 
while  no  one  could  become  a  skillful  chess  or  dice  player, 
who  does  not  study  it  from  childhood,  but  makes  it  a  mere 
by-work  ?  and  can  a  person  who  takes  a  spear  or  other 
war-like  arms  and  instruments,  instantly  become  an  expert 
combatant  in  an  armed  encounter  or  aught  else  relating  to 
war ;  while,  as  respects  the  tools  of  any  other  art  whatever, 
one  cannot  become  a  good  artist,  or  even  a  wrestler  to  any 
useful  extent,  without  having  correct  knowledge  and  be- 
stowing sufficient  attention  ?  In  that  case,  such  tools,  said 
he,  would  truly  be  very  valuable. 

Chap.  XV. —  Therefore,  said  I,  by  how  much  more  im- 
portant is  the  work  of  the  state-guardians,  by  so  much 
will  it  require  the  greatest  leisure  from  other  pursuits, 
and  likewise  the  greatest  art  and  study!  I  really  think 
so,  replied  he.  And  will  it  not  also  require  natural  tal- 
ents suited  to  this  particular  profession  ?  Of  course.  I 
think,  then,  we  should  make  it  our  special  business,  if 
possible,  to  choose  what  men  and  what  talents  are  suited 
for  the  guardianship  of  a  state.  Aye,  our  special  business. 
By  Zeus,  said  I,  in  that  case  we  have  undertaken  no 
trifling  business;  but,  still  we  must  not  despair,  as  long, 


82 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


at  least,  as  we  have  any  ability.  Of  course  not,  said  he. 
Think  you,  then,  said  I,  that  the  genius  of  a  high-bred 
whelp  at  all  differs  as  respects  guardianship,  from  that 
of  a  high-bred  youth  ?  What  do  you  mean  ?  For  instance, 
must  not  each  of  them  be  acute  in  perception,  swift  in 
pursuing  what  he  perceives,  and  strong  likewise,  if  he 
wants,  when  he  has  taken,  to  overcome  it  ?  Of  all  these 
there  is  great  need,  said  he.  And  surely  he  must  be 
brave  also,  if  he  is  to  fight  well.  Of  course.  But  is  he 
likely  to  be  brave,  who  has  not  a  high  spirit;  whether 
horse  or  dog,  or  any  other  animal  ?  Have  you  not  ob- 
served how  irresistible  and  invincible  is  anger,  and, 
when  it  is  present,  that  every  soul  is  fearless  of  every- 
thing and  indomitable  ?  I  have.  It  is  plain,  then,  what 
species  of  guardian  we  ought  to  have,  as  respects  the 
body  ?  Yes.  And  with  reference  to  his  soul,  moreover, 
that  he  should  be  spirited.  That  is  clear,  also.  How, 
then,  said  I,  Glaucon,  can  they  be  otherwise  than  savage 
toward  each  other  and  the  other  citizens,  when  of  such 
a  temper  ?  By  Zeus,  said  he,  not  easily.  Still  it  is  neces- 
sary, that  towards  their  friends  they  should  be  mild,  but 
towards  their  enemies  fierce:  for  otherwise  they  would 
not  wait  for  others  to  destroy  them,  but  rather  be  be- 
forehand with  them  in  doing  it.  True,  said  he.  What 
shall  we  do,  then,  said  I;  whence  shall  we  find  a  dispo- 
sition at  the  same  time  mild  and  magnanimous  ?  for 
the  mild  nature  is  surely  opposed  to  the  high-spirited  ? 
It  appears  so.  Nevertheless,  if  he  be  deprived  of  either 
of  these,  he  cannot  be  a  good  guardian;  but  this  seems 
to  be  impossible:  and  thus  it  turns  out  that  it  is  im- 
possible there  should  be  a  good  guardian.  It  seems  so, 
said  he.  Then  I,  being  at  a  loss,  and  considering  what 
had  passed,  said:  We  very  justly  hesitate,  my  friend, 
for  we  have  departed  from  the  image  that  we  first  es- 
tablished. How  say  you  ?  Did  we  not  observe  that  there 
are  such  kinds  of  tempers  as  we  imagined  did  not  exist, 
having  these  opposite  qualities  ?  Where  ?  One  may  see 
it  also  in  other  animals,  and  not  a  little  in  that,  to  which 
we  compared  our  guardian;  for  you  know  it  is  the  nat- 
ural temper  of  generous  dogs  to  be  as  gentle  as  possible 
towards  their  intimates  and  their  acquaintances,  but  the 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


83 


reverse  to  those  whom  they  know  not.  Aye,  —  I  know 
it.  This,  then,  said  I,  is  quite  possible;  and  we  do  not 
unnaturally  require  our  guardian  to  be  so.    It  seems  not. 

Chap.  XVL  Are  you,  further,  of  opinion,  that  he  who 
is  to  be  our  guardian  should,  besides  being  spirited,  have 
a  philosophic  nature  also  ?  How  ?  said  he :  for  I  do  not 
understand.  This,  too,  said  I,  you  will  observe  in  dogs, 
what  is  also  well  worthy  of  admiration  in  the  brute.  What  ? 
He  is  angry  at  every  unknown  person  that  he  sees,  though 
he  has  never  suffered  ill  from  him  before;  but  one  that 
is  known  he  fawns  upon,  even  though  he  may  never  have 
received  any  good  from  him.  Did  you  never  wonder  at 
this  ?  I  never,  said  he,  thought  of  it  before ;  but  he  does 
so,  it  is  clear.  Moreover,  this  affection  of  his  nature 
appears  elegant  at  least,  and  truly  philosophic.  In  what 
respect  ?  Because,  said  I,  it  distinguishes  a  friendly  and 
unfriendly  aspect  by  nothing  else  but  this, — that  it  knows 
the  one,  but  not  the  other:  and  how  can  we  refuse  to 
consider  that  as  the  love  of  learning,  which  defines  the 
friendly  and  the  foreign  by  intelligence  and  ignorance  ? 
By  no  means,  said  he:  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  Never- 
theless, said  I,  to  be  a  lover  of  learning  and  a  philosopher, 
are  the  same.  The  same,  said  he.  May  we  not,  then, 
boldly  lay  down  [the  principle]  that  in  man,  too,  if  any 
one  be  mild  towards  his  intimates  and  acquaintances,  he 
must  by  nature  be  a  philosopher  and  a  lover  of  learning  ? 
Let  us  so  lay  it  down,  said  he. 

He,  then,  who  intends  to  be  a  good  and  worthy  state- 
guardian,  should  be  by  nature  a  philosopher,  spirited, 
swift,  and  strong.  By  all  means,  said  he.  Let  him,  then,  be 
just  such  as  this,  said  I.  In  what  manner,  then,  shall  they 
be  trained  and  instructed  ?  and  will  the  consideration  of 
this  at  all  aid  us  in  perceiving  the  object,  for  the  sake  of 
which  we  are  considering  all  these  things;  that  is  to  say, 
how  justice  and  injustice  arise  in  a  state  ?  that  we  may 
not  omit  any  necessary  part  of  our  argument,  or  wade 
through  what  is  superfluous  ?  Then,  said  Glaucon's 
brother:  I,  for  my  part,  quite  expect  that  this  inquiry 
will  conduce  to  this  end.  By  Zeus,  said  I,  friend  Adiman- 
tus,  we  must  not  dismiss  it ;  even  though  it  be  somewhat 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


too  long-.    No,  truly.    Come,  then,  let  us,  as  if  we  were 

talking-  in  the  way  of  fable,  and  at  our  leisure,  give  some 
ideal  training  to  these  men.    It  is  right  to  do  so. 

Chap.  XVII.  What,  then,  is  the  education  ?  Is  it  diffi- 
cult to  discover  a  better  than  has  been  discovered  for  a 
long  time  ?  that  is,  surely,  gymnastics  for  the  body,  and 
music  for  the  mind  ?  It  is.  Must  we  not  first,  then, 
begin  by  teaching  music,  rather  than  gymnastics  ?  Of 
course.  When  you  say  music,  you  mean  arguments,  do 
you  not  ?  I  do.  But  of  arguments  there  are  two  kinds, 
—  the  one  true,  the  other  false.  Yes.  And  they  must 
be  instructed  in  both, — but  first  in  the  false.  I  do  not 
understand,  said  he,  what  you  mean.  Know  you  not,  said 
I,  that  first  of  all  we  tell  children  fables;  and  this 
[surely],  to  speak  generally,  is  falsehood;  though  there 
is  some  truth  in  it;  but  we  employ  fables  with  children 
before  gymnastic  exercises.  We  do.  This  was  what  I 
meant,  then,  by  saying  that  we  must  begin  music  before 
gymnastics.  Right,  said  he.  And  know  you  not,  that  the 
beginning  of  every  work  is  most  important,  especially  to 
any  one  young  and  tender;  because  then  that  particu- 
lar impression  is  most  easily  instilled  and  formed,  which 
any  one  may  wish  to  imprint  on  each  individual.  En- 
tirely so.  Shall  we  then  let  children  hear  any  kind  of 
fables  composed  by  any  kind  of  persons,  and  receive 
into  their  minds  opinions  in  a  great  measure  contrar}'  to 
those  which  we  think  they  should  have  when  they  are 
grown  up  ?  We  should  by  no  means  allow  it.  First  of 
all,  then,  as  it  seems,  we  must  exercise  control  over  the 
fable-makers;  and  whatever  beautiful  fable  they  may 
invent,  we  should  select,  and  what  is  not  so,  we  should 
reject:  and  we  are  to  prevail  on  nurses  and  mothers  to 
repeat  to  the  children  such  fables  as  are  selected,  and  fash- 
ion their  minds  by  fables,  much  more  than  their  bodies  by 
their  hands.  But  very  many  of  those  that  they  now  tell 
them  must  be  cast  aside.  What,  for  instance,  said  he  ?  In 
the  more  important  fables,  said  I,  we  shall  see  the  lesser 
likewise :  for  the  fashion  of  them  must  be  the  same ;  and 
both  the  greater  and  the  less  must  have  the  same  kind  of 
influence :  do  not  you  think  so  ?  I  do.  said  he :  but  I  do  not 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


85 


at  all  understand  which  of  them  you  call  the  greater. 
Those,  said  I,  which  both  Hesiod  and  Homer  told 
us,  and  the  other  poets  also:  for  they  composed  and 
related  false  fables  for  mankind,  and  do  still  relate 
them.  What  class,  said  he,  do  you  mean;  and  what 
do  you  blame  in  them  ?  That,  said  I,  which  ought 
first  and  most  of  all  to  be  blamed, — especially  when 
one  does  not  falsify  well.  What  is  that  ?  When  a  poet,  in 
his  composition,  exhibits  bad  representations  of  the  nature 
of  gods  and  heroes, — just  as  a  painter  draws  a  picture  not  at 
all  resembling  what  he  was  intending  to  paint.  Yes,  it  is 
quite  right,  said  he,  that  such  as  these  should  be  blamed: 
but  how  do  we  say,  and  in  what  respect  ?  First  of  all, 
said  I,  with  reference  to  that  greatest  falsehood,  in  matters 
of  grave  importance  too,  in  saying  which  he  did  not  falsify 
well,  that  Uranus  made  what  Hesiod  says  he  did ;  and  then 
again  how  Kronos  punished  him,  and  what  Kronos  did, 
and  suffered  from  his  son :  for  though  these  things  were 
true,  yet  I  think  they  should  not  be  so  readily  told  to  the 
unwise  and  the  young,  but  rather  concealed  from  them; 
and  were  there  need  to  tell  them,  they  should  be  heard  in 
secrecy,  by  as  few  as  possible,  after  sacrificing  not  a 
[valueless]  hog,*  but  some  great  and  wonderful  sacrifice, 
in  order  that  it  may  fall  to  the  lot  of  the  fewest  possible  to 
hear  them.  These  fables,  said  he,  are  indeed  injurious. 
Neither  are  they  to  be  told,  Adimantus,  said  I,  in  our 
state :  nor  should  it  be  said  in  the  hearing  of  a  youth, 
that  he  who  commits  the  most  extreme  injustice,  or  that 
he  who  punishes  in  every  possible  way  a  father  who  com- 
mits injustice,  does  nothing  strange,  but  only  does  the 
same  as  the  first  and  the  greatest  of  the  gods.  No  truly,  said 
he,  nor  do  such  things  as  these  seem  to  me  proper  to  be 
said.  Neither,  generally,  said  I,  must  it  be  told,  how  gods 
war  with  gods,  and  plot  and  fight  against  one  another  ( for 
such  assertions  are  not  true), —  if,  at  least,  it  be  the  duty 
of  those  who  are  to  guard  the  state  to  esteem  it  most 

*  Allusion  is  here  made  to  the  mysteries  of  Eleusis,  in  which  all 
about  to  be  initiated  sacrificed  a  hog, —  a  circumstance  referred  to  by 
Aristophanes,  Pax,  v.  373-5;  Acharn.  vv.  747  and  764.  The  verb 
QKovaai  refers  to  the  cabalistic  oaths  and  secrets  that  were  listened  to 
during  the  process  of  initiation. 


86 


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shameful  to  hate  each  other  on  slight  grounds.  As  little 
ought  we  to  describe  in  fables,  and  with  ornamental  aids, 
the  battles  of  the  giants,  and  other  many  and  various  feuds, 
both  of  gods  and  heroes,  with  their  own  kindred  and  re- 
lations: but  if  we  would  persuade  them  that  never  at  all 
should  one  citizen  hate  another,  and  that  it  is  not  holy, 
such  things  as  these  are  rather  to  be  told  them  in  early 
childhood,  by  the  old  men  and  women  and  those  well  ad- 
vanced in  life ;  and  the  poets  should  be  obliged  to  com- 
pose consistently  with  these  views.  And  [the  fables  of] 
Hera  fettered  by  her  son,  and  Hephaestus  hurled  from 
heaven  by  his  father  for  going  to  assist  his  mother  when 
beaten,  and  all  those  battles  of  the  gods  which  Homer  has 
composed,  we  must  not  admit  into  our  state;  either  in 
allegory  or  without  allegory;  for  young  persons  are  not 
able  to  judge  what  is  allegory  and  what  is  not,  but  what- 
ever opinions  they  receive  at  such  an  age  are  wont  to  be 
obliterated  with  difficulty,  and  immovable.  Hence,  one 
would  think,  we  should  of  all  things  endeavor,  that  what 
they  first  hear  be  composed  in  the  best  manner  for  excit- 
ing them  to  virtue. 

Chap.  XVIII.  There  is  reason  for  it,  said  he:  but, 
if  any  one  should  ask  us  about  these,  what  they  are,  and 
what  kind  of  fables,  which  should  we  name  ?  Adimantus, 
I  replied,  you  and  I  are  not  poets  at  present,  but  founders 
of  a  city,  and  it  is  the  founder's  business  to  know  the 
models  on  which  the  poets  are  to  compose  their  fables, 
contrary  to  which  they  are  not  to  be  tolerated;  but  it  is 
not  our  province  to  make  fables  for  them.  Right,  said 
he.  But  as  to  this  very  thing, — namely,  the  models  to 
be  taken  in  speaking  about  the  gods,  what  must  they 
be  ?  Some  such  as  these,  said  I :  God  is  always  to  be 
represented  such  as  he  is,  whether  we  represent  him  in 
epic,  in  song,  or  in  tragedy.  Necessarily  so.  Is  not  God 
essentially  good,  and  is  he  not  to  be  described  as  such  ? 
Without  doubt.  But  nothing  that  is  good  is  hurtful,  is 
it  ?  I  do  not  think  so.  Does  then  what  is  not  hurtful 
ever  hurt  ?  By  no  means.  Does  that,  which  hurts  not, 
do  any  evil  ?  Nor  this  either.  And  what  does  no  evil 
cannot  be  the  cause  of  any  evil  ?    Of  course  not.  But 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


87 


what? — good  is  beneficial.  Yes.  It  is,  therefore,  the 
cause  of  prosperity  ?  Yes.  Good,  therefore,  is  not  the 
cause  of  all  things,  but  the  cause  of  those  things  only 
which  are  in  a  right  state  —  not  the  cause  of  those  things 
which  are  in  a  wrong  state.  Entirely  so,  said  he.  Neither, 
then,  can  God,  said  I,  since  he  is  good,  be  the  cause  of 
all  things,  as  the  many  say,  but  only  the  cause  of  a  few 
things  to  men,  but  of  many  things  not  the  cause ;  for  our 
blessings  are  much  fewer  than  our  troubles :  and  no  other 
must  be  assigned  as  the  cause  of  our  blessings;  whereas 
of  our  troiibles  we  must  seek  some  other  causes,  and  not 
God.  You  seem  to  me,  said  he,  to  speak  most  truly. 
We  must  not  admit,  then,  said  I,  that  error  of  Homer 
or  any  other  poet  who  foolishly  errs  with  respect  to  the 
gods,  and  says  how  — 

Fast  by  the  threshold  of  Jove's  courts  are  placed 
Two  casks ;  one  stored  with  evil,  one  with  good, 
From  which  the  God  dispenses  as  he  wills. 
For  whom  the  glorious,  Thund'rer  mingles  both, 
He  leads  a  life  chequer'd  with  good  and  ill 
Alternate ;  but  to  whom  he  gives  unmix'd 
The  bitter  cup,  he  makes  that  man  a  curse, 
His  name  becomes  a  by-word  of  reproach. 
His  strength  is  hunger- bitten,  and  he  walks 
The  blessed  earth  unblest,  go  where  he  may, — 

Nor,  that  Zeus  — 

Grants  mortal  man  both  happiness  and  woe. 

Chap.  XIX.  As  regards  the  violation  of  oaths  and 
treaties  which  Pandarus  effected,  if  any  should  say  it  W3S 
done  by  the  agency  of  Athena  and  Zeus,  we  cannot  ap- 
prove; neither  [if  he  were  to  relate]  the  dissension 
among  the  gods,  and  the  judgment  by  Themis  and  Zeus ; 
nor  yet  must  we  suffer  the  youth  to  hear  what  -^schylus 
says;  how. 

Forthwith  to  mortals  God  invents  a  cause,  * 
Whene'er  he  wills  their  dwellings  to  destroy; 

and,  besides,  if  any  one  is  making  poetical  compositions, 
in  which  are  these  iambics,  the  sufferings  of  Niobe,  of 
the  Pelopides,  or  the  Trojans,  or  others  of  a  like  nature, 
we  must  either  not  suffer  him  to  say,  that  they  are  the 


88 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


works  of  God, —  or,  if  of  God,  we  must  discover  that 
principle  of  action  which  we  now  require,  and  say,  that 
God  did  what  was  just  and  good,  and  that  they  were  bene- 
fited by  being  chastised ;  and  we  must  not  let  a  poet  say, 
that  those  are  miserable  who  are  punished,  and  that  it  is 
God  who  does  these  things.  If  they  say,  however,  that 
the  wicked,  as  being  miserable,  need  correction,  and  that, 
in  being  punished,  they  are  benefited  by  God,  we  may  suf- 
fer the  assertion.  To  say,  however,  that  God,  who  is  good, 
is  the  cause  of  ill  to  any  one,  this  we  must  by  all  means 
oppose,  and  suffer  no  one  to  say  so  in  our  state;  if  at 
any  rate  we  wish  it  well  governed;  neither  must  we 
allow  any  one,  young  or  old,  to  hear  such  things  told  in 
fable,  either  in  verse  or  prose, —  as  their  relation  is  neither 
consistent  with  holiness,  nor  profitable  to  us,  nor  consistent 
with  themselves. 

I  vote  along  with  you,  said  he,  as  respects  this  law, — 
for  it  quite  pleases  me.  This,  then,  said  I,  is  probably 
one  of  the  laws  and  models  as  respects  the  gods,  by 
which  it  will  be  necessary  for  those  who  speak  to  speak 
and  for  those  who  compose  to  compose,  that  God  is  not 
the  cause  of  all  things,  but  of  good.  Yes,  said  he,  of 
course.  But  what  as  to  this  second  law  ?  Think  you 
that  God  is  a  sorcerer,  and  appears  designedly,  at  differ- 
ent times,  in  different  shapes, —  sometimes  like  himself, — 
and,  at  other  times,  changing  his  form  into  many  shapes, — • 
sometimes  deceiving  us  and  making  us  conceive  false 
opinions  of  him;  or,  that  he  is  simple,  and  that  he  by 
no  means  quits  his  proper  form  ?  I  cannot,  now,  at  least, 
say  so,  replied  he.  But  what  as  to  this;  if  anything  be 
changed  from  its  proper  form,  must  it  not  be  necessarily 
changed  by  itself,  or  by  another  ?  Undoubtedly.  Are 
not  those  things  which  are  in  the  best  state,  changed  and 
moved  least  of  all  other  by  another;  as  the  body,  by 
meats  and  drinks,  and  labors,  and  all  kinds  of  plants 
by  droughts  and  winds,  and  such  like  accidents  ?  Is  not 
the  most  healthy  and  vigorous  least  of  all  changed  ? 
Surely.  And  as  to  the  soul  itself,  will  not  external  ac- 
cidents least  of  all  disorder  and  change  the  bravest  and 
wisest  ?  Yes.  And  surely  all  are  mantifactured  vessels, 
and  buildings,  and  vestments,  such  as  are  properly  made 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


89 


and  in  a  right  state,  are  according  to  the  same  reasoning 
least  of  all  changed  by  time,  or  other  accidents  ?  Such 
is  the  case.  Everything,  then,  which  is  in  a  good  state, 
either  by  nature  or  art,  or  both,  receives  the  smallest 
change  from  another.  It  seems  so.  But  God,  and  all 
that  belongs  to  divinity,  are  in  the  best  state  ?  Of  course. 
In  this  way,  then,  God  should  least  of  all  have  many 
shapes  ?    Least  of  all,  truly. 

Chap.  XX.  Again, — should  he  change  and  alter  him- 
self ?  Clearly  so,  said  he,  if  he  be  changed  at  all. 
Does  he  then  change  himself  to  what  is  better,  and 
fairer,  or  to  the  worse,  and  more  deformed  ?  To  the 
worse,  surely,  replied  he, — if  he  be  changed  at  all;  for 
we  can  never  say,  that  God  is  at  all  deficient  in  beauty 
or  excellence.  You  speak  most  correctly,  said  I.  And 
this  being  so,  think  you,  Adimantus,  that  any  one, 
either  of  gods  or  men,  would  willingly  make  himself 
any  way  worse  ?  Impossible  said  he.  It  is  impossible, 
then,  said  I,  for  a  god  to  desire  to  change  himself;  but, 
as  it  seems,  each  being  most  beautiful  and  excellent, 
continues  always  to  the  utmost  of  his  power  invariably 
in  his  ovm  form.  This  seems  a  necessary  conclusion, 
said  he.  Well,  then,  said  I,  most  excellent  Adimantus,  let 
not  any  of  the  poets  tell  us,  how 

.    .    .  in  similitude  of  strangers  oft 
The  gods,  who  can  with  ease  all  shapes  assume, 
Repair  to  populous  cities  ... 

Neither  let  any  one  belie  Proteus  and  Thetis,  nor  intro- 
duce Hera  in  tragedies  or  other  poems,  as  having  trans- 
formed herself  into  a  priestess,  collecting  for 

Those  life-sustaining  sons 

Of  Inachus,  the  Argive  streams ; 

nor  let  them  tell  us  many  other  such  falsehoods:  nor 
again,  let  mothers,  persuaded  by  them,  terrify  their 
children,  telling  the  stories  wrong, — as,  that  certain 
gods  wander  by  night. 

Resembling  various  guests,  in  various  forms, 

lest  they  should,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  blaspheme 
against  the   gods,    and   make    their   children  cowards. 


1 


90 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Surely  not,  said  he.  But  do  the  gods,  said  I,  who  in 
themselves  never  change,  still  make  us  imagine  that  they 
appear  in  various  forms,  deceiving  us,  and  playing  the 
sorcerer  ?  Perhaps  they  do,  said  he.  What  said  I ; 
can  a  god  wish  to  deceive, —  holding  up  a  mere  phantom, 
either  in  word  or  deed  ?  I  know  not,  said  he.  Know 
you  not,  said  I,  that  a  real  falsehood  (if  we  be  allowed 
to  say  so),  both  all  the  gods  and  men  abhor?  How  mean 
you  ?  replied  he.  Thus,  said  I :  that  to  be  deceived  in 
the  most  excellent  part  of  oneself,  and  that  about  one's 
highest  interests,  is  what  no  one  wishes  of  his  own  ac- 
cord; but  of  all  things,  every  one  is  most  afraid  of  this 
happening  to  him.  Even  yet,  said  he,  I  do  not  under- 
stand you.  Because,  said  I,  you  think  I  am  saying  some- 
thing awful:  but  I  am  saying,  that  for  the  soul  to  be 
deceived  with  respect  to  realities,  and  to  be  so  deceived 
and  ignorant,  and  in  that  to  have  obtained  and  to  maintain 
a  falsehood,  is  what  every  one  would  least  of  all  choose; 
and  would  most  hate  it  in  the  soul.  Most  especially,  said 
he.  But  this,  as  I  was  now  saying,  might  very  correctly 
be  termed  a  real  falsehood  —  ignorance  in  the  soul  of  the 
deceived  person ;  for  imitation  in  words  is  a  kind  of  image 
of  the  affection  the  soul  feels,  and  springs  up  afterwards, 
and  is  not  altogether  a  pure  falsehood :  is  it  not  so  ? 
Assuredly. 

Chap.  XXI.  But  a  real  falsehood  is  not  only  hated  by 
the  gods,  but  also  by  men.  It  appears  so  to  me.  But 
what  as  to  a  falsehood  in  words  ?  when  is  it  of  such  ser- 
vice, so  as  not  to  deserve  hatred  ?  Is  it  not  when  em- 
ployed towards  enemies,  and  some  even  of  those  called 
friends, —  when  during  madness,  or  other  folly,  they  at- 
tempt to  do  some  mischief;  in  that  case,  is  it  not  use- 
ful for  dissuasion  as  a  drug;  and  in  the  fables  we  just 
mentioned,  because  we  know  not  how  the  truth  stands 
about  ancient  things,  do  we  not  forge  a  falsehood  resem- 
bling the  truth  as  much  as  possible,  and  so  make  it  use- 
ful ?  It  certainly  is  so,  said  he.  In  which  of  these  cases, 
then,  is  a  falsehood  useful  to  God  ?  Does  he  invent  a 
falsehood  resembling  the  truth,  because  he  is  ignorant  of 
ancient  things  ?  That  were  ridiculous,  said  he.  In  God, 
then,  there  is  not  a  lying  poet  ?    I  think  not.    But  would 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


9' 


he  invent  a  falsehood  through  fear  of  his  enemies  ?  Far 
from  it.  Or  on  account  of  the  folly  or  madness  of  his 
friends  ?  No,  said  he,  none  of  the  foolish  and  mad  are 
beloved  of  God.  There  is  no  occasion  at  all,  then,  for  a 
god  to  invent  a  falsehood  ?  None.  The  divine  and  god- 
like nature,  then,  is  altogether  free  from  falsehood  ? 
Entirely  so,  said  he.  God,  then,  is  quite  simple  and  true, 
both  in  word  and  deed;  neither  is  he  changed  himself, 
nor  does  he  deceive  others — neither  by  visions,  nor  dis- 
course, nor  the  pomp  of  signs,  neither  when  we  are 
awake  nor  when  we  sleep  ?  So  it  appears  to  me,  said  he, 
just  as  you  say.  You  agree  then,  said  I,  that  this  shall 
be  the  second  principle  which  we  are  to  lay  down  both 
in  speaking  and  composing  concerning  the  gods, — namely, 
that  they  are  neither  sorcerers  and  change  themselves, 
nor  mislead  us  by  falsehoods,  either  in  word  or  deed  ? 
I  agree.  While,  then,  we  commend  many  other  things 
in  Homer,  this  we  shall  not  commend, — namely,  the 
dream  sent  by  Jupiter  to  Agamemnon;  nor  that  in 
.^schylus,  when  he  makes  Thetis  say  that  Apollo  had 
sung  at  her  marriage,  that 

.    .    •    her  happy  lot  should  be 

To  bear  an  offspring  fair,  from  ailment  free, 

And  blest  with  lengthen'd  days;  and  then  the  God, 

Unfolding  all,  with  pseans  high  proclaim'd 

Thy  heaven-blest  fortunes,  welcome  to  my  soul 

I  hoped  that  all  was  true  that  Phoebus  sang 

So  sweetly  tuned  with  high  prophetic  art; 

But  he  who  at  my  nuptials  joy  foretold, 

The  same  is  he,  who  now  hath  slain  my  child. 

When  any  one  alleges  such  things  as  these  about  the  gods, 
we  must  show  disapproval,  and  not  grant  them  the  privi- 
lege of  a  chorus;  neither  should  we  suffer  teachers  to 
employ  them  in  the  training  of  youth, —  if  at  least  our 
guardians  are  to  be  pious  and  divine  men,  as  far  as  man 
can  be.  As  to  all  these  models,  I  entirely  agree  with 
you,  said  he,  and  I  should  adopt  them  as  laws. 


BOOK  III. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  THIRD  BOOK  he  continues  to  dilate  on  music  and  gymnastics,  and 
then  proceeds  to  treat  of  the  talents,  habits,  and  education  suitable 
for  the  inferior  magistrates  of  a  state.  Lastly,  from  the  interpretation 
of  a  certain  Phoenician  fable,  he  demonstrates  the  need  of  a  commu- 
nity and  general  harmony  between  citizens,  as  being  truly  brethren 
and  members  of  the  same  family.  It  is  quite  necessary,  however, 
that  there  should  be  a  distinct  and  well-ordered  evra^ia,  because  some 
are  capable  of  being  xp^'^o^t  others  only  apyvpoc,  and  so  on,  accord- 
ing to  caste,  talent,  and  conduct,  all  together  composing  the  state ; 
and  lastly,  he  expresses  disapprobation  at  the  great  weight  given  to 
the  sayings  of  poets  whom  accordingly  he  wishes  to  be  excluded  from 
his  ideal  republic,  though  he  willingly  accords  them  honor  on  account 
of  their  great  learning. 

Chap.  I.  Concerning  the  gods,  then,  said  I,  such 
things  as  these  are,  it  seems,  to  be  both  heard,  and  not 
heard,  from  childhood  upwards,  by  those  who  will  honor 
the  gods  and  parents,  and  not  lightly  esteem  mutual 
friendship.  Aye, — and  methinks,  said  he,  these  things 
are  rightly  so  understood.  But  what  then  ?  If  men  are 
to  be  brave,  must  not  these  things  be  told  them,  and 
such  others  likewise,  as  may  make  them  least  of  all 
afraid  of  death;  or,  think  you,  that  any  one  can  ever  be 
brave,  who  has  this  fear  within  him  ?  Not  I,  truly,  said 
he.  But  what  ?  think  you  any  one  can  be  free  from  the 
fear  of  death,  while  he  conceives  that  there  is  Hades  — 
and  a  dreadful  place,  too, —  and  that  in  battles  he  will 
choose  death  in  preference  to  defeat  and  slavery  ?  Surely 
not. 

We  ought  then,  it  seems,  to  take  the  command,  also, 
of  those  who  undertake  to  discourse  about  these  fables, 
and  entreat  them  not  so  sweepingly  to  abuse  what  is  in 
Hades,  but  rather  to  praise  it;  since  they  neither  speak 
what  is  true  nor  what  is  expedient  for  those  who  mean 
(92) 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


93 


to  be  soldiers.  We  ought  indeed,  said  he.  Beginning 
then,  said  I,  at  this  verse,  we  will  omit  all  such  as 
these : 

I  had  rather  live 
The  servile  hind  for  hire,  and  eat  the  bread 
Of  some  man  scantily,  himself  sustained, 
Than  sovereign  empire  hold  o'er  all  the  shades; 

And  this  — 

Lest  Neptune  o'er  his  head 
Shattering  the  vaulted  earth,  should  wide  disclose 
To  mortal  and  immortal  eyes  his  realm 
Terrible,  squalid,  to  the  gods  themselves 
A  dreaded  spectacle ; 

And  — 

Oh,  then,  ye  gods!  there  doubtless  are  below, 
The  soul  and  semblance  both,  but  empty  forms ; 

And  — 

He's  wise  alone,  the  rest  are  flutt'ring  shades ; 

And  — 

Down  into  Hades  from  his  limbs  dismiss'd 
His  spirit  fled  sorrowful,  of  youth's  prime 
And  vigorous  manhood  suddenly  bereft; 

And  — 

.    .    .    His  soul,  like  smoke,  down  to  the  shades 
Fled  howling    .    .  . 

And  — 

As  when  the  bats  within  some  hallow'd  cave 
Flit  screaming  all  around ;  for  if  but  one 
Fall  from  the  rock,  the  rest  all  follow  him  ; 
In  such  connection  mutual  they  adhere ; 
So.    .    .    .    the  ghosts 

Troop'd  downward,  gibbering  all  the  dreary  way. 

As  to  these  and  all  such  like  passages,  we  must  request 
Homer  and  the  other  poets  not  to  be  offended  at  our 
erasing  them,  —  not  as  unpoetical  and  displeasing  to  the 
ears  of  the  multitude;  for  the  more  poetical  they  are, 
the  less  they  should  be  listened  to  by  children,  or  men 
either,  who  would  be  free,  and  fear  slavery  more  than 
death.    Aye,  by  all  means. 

Chap.  IL  Further,  are  not  all  dreadful  and  frightful 
titles  also,  about  these  things,  to  be  rejected:  Cocytus 


94 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


and  Styx,  the  infernals,  the  life-lorn,  and  many  other 
appellations  of  this  character,  such  as  make  all  hearers 
shudder  ?  and  perhaps  they  may  well  serve  some  other 
purpose ;  but  we  fear  for  our  guardians,  lest  by  such  ter- 
ror they  be  made  more  effeminate  and  soft  than  is  fitting. 
We  are  in  the  right  too,  to  be  afraid  of  that,  said  he. 
Are  these  then  to  be  suppressed  ?  Yes.  And  must  they 
speak,  then,  and  compose  on  a  contrary  model  to  these  ? 
Plainly  so.  And  are  we  likewise  to  suppress  the  wailings 
and  lamentations  of  illustrious  men  ?  We  must,  said  he,  if 
we  do  the  former.  Consider  then,  said  I,  whether  we  shall 
suppress  them  rightly  or  not, — and  do  we  say,  that  the 
virtuous  man  to  another  virtuous  man  —  whose  friend  he 
is  —  deems  death  dreadful  ?  We  do.  He  would  not  then, 
at  any  rate,  lament  over  him,  as  if  he  had  suffered  some- 
thing dreadful  ?  No,  indeed.  And  we  say  this  likewise, 
that  such  an  one  is  most  of  all  self-sustained  as  regards 
living  happily,  and  distinctively  above  all  others,  least 
in  need  of  foreign  aid.  True,  said  he.  To  him,  then, 
it  is  least  dreadful  to  be  deprived  of  a  son,  a  brother,  or 
property,  or  other  like  things  ?  Aye,  least  of  all,  so. 
Least  of  all,  then  will  he  lament,  but  rather  endure  with 
the  utmost  meekness  whatever  trouble  befall  him  ?  Cer- 
tainly. We  should  be  right  then  in  suppressing  the  lamen- 
tations of  famous  men,  and  should  assign  them  to  women, 
(and  among  these  even  not  to  the  better  sort),  and  to  such 
men  as  are  cowards;  in  order  that,  as  regards  those  whom 
we  propose  to  educate  for  the  guardianship  of  the  country, 
they  may  disdain  to  act  thus.  Right,  said  he.  Again, 
then,  we  will  entreat  Homer  and  the  rest  of  the  poets 
not  to  say  in  their  compositions  about  Achilles,  the  sop^ 
of  a  goddess,  that 

Now  on  his  side  he  lay,  now  lay  supine, 

Now  prone;  then  starting  from  his  couch  he  roam'd 

Forlorn  the  beach    .    .  . 

Nor  how  — 

.    .    .    grasping  with  both  hands  the  ashes, 
Down  he  pour'd  them  burning  on  his  head   .    .  . 

Nor  the  rest  of  his  lamentation  and  wailing,  —  of  what- 
ever kind  and  quantity  he  made  them;  nor  Priam,  near 
as  he  was  to  the  gods,  who  — 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


9S 


.    .    .    to  all  —  kneel'd 

In  turn,  then  roll'd  himself  in  dust,  and  each 
By  name  solicited  to  give  him  way. 

Still  much  more  must  we  entreat  them  not  to  represent 
the  gods  as  bewailing,  and  saying, 

Ah  me,  forlorn !  ah  me,  parent  in  vain 
Of  an  illustrious  birth. 

And  if  they  are  not  thus  to  introduce  the  gods,  far  less 
should  they  dare  thus  unbecomingly  to  represent  the 
greatest  of  those  gods: 

Ah !  I  behold  a  warrior  dear  to  me, 

Around  the  walls  of  Ilium  driven,  and  grieve 

For  Hector, — 

And  again, — 

Alas,  he  falls!  my  most  beloved  of  men, 
Sarpedon,  vanquished  by  Patroclus,  falls: 
So  will  the  Fates! 

Chap.  III.  Supposing  then,  friend  Adimantus,  our 
youths  should  seriously  hear  such  things  as  these,  and  not 
ridicule  them  as  spoken  unworthily,— hardly  any  one 
would  think  it  unworthy  of  himself  as  a  man,  or  reprove 
himself  [for  it],  if  he  should  chance  either  to  say  or  do 
anything  of  the  kind, —  but  would  rather,  without  shame 
or  endurance,  sing  many  lamentations  and  moanings  over 
trifling  sufferings.  You  speak  most  truly,  replied  he. 
But  they  must  not, — as  our  argument  has  just  evinced; 
which  we  must  believe,  till  some  one  persuades  us  by  some 
better.  They  must  not,  of  course.  Neither  ought  we, 
moreover,  to  be  over  fond  of  laughing:  for  commonly 
where  a  man  gives  himself  to  violent  laughter,  such  a 
disposition  requires  a  violent  change.  I  think  so,  said  he. 
Neither,  if  any  one  should  represent  worthy  men  as  over- 
come by  laughter,  should  we  allow  it,  much  less  if  [he 
thus  represent]  the  gods.  Much,  indeed,  said  he.  Neither, 
then,  ought  we  to  receive  such  statements  as  these  of 
Homer  concerning  the  gods : 

Heaven  rang  with  laughter  inextinguishable — 
Peal  after  peal,  such  pleasure  all  conceived 
At  sight  of  Vulcan  in  his  new  employ.* 

*  Namely,  as  cupbearer  to  the  gods. —  II.  i.  v.  599. 


06 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


This  cannot  be  admitted,  according  to  your  reasoning. 
If  you  please  to  call  it  my  reasoning,  said  he, — this, 
indeed,  cannot  be  admitted.  Besides  this,  however,  the 
truth  must  be  held  of  great  importance:  for  if  we 
just  now  argued  rightly,  and  falsehood  be.  really  of  no 
service  to  the  gods,  but  useful  to  men,  in  the  form  of 
a  drug,  it  is  plain  that  such  a  thing  should  be  trusted 
only  to  physicians,  but  not  meddled  with  by  private 
persons.  Quite  plain,  said  he.  To  the  governors  of  the 
state,  then,  if  to  any,  it  especially  belongs  to  speak 
falsely  either  about  enemies  or  citizens,  for  the  good  of 
the  state;  whereas,  for  all  the  rest,  they  must  venture 
on  no  such  a  thing.  For  a  private  person,  moreover,  to 
speak  falsely  against  such  governors,  we  shall  deem  the 
same  and  even  a  greater  ofEense,  than  for  a  patient  not 
to  speak  the  truth  to  his  physician,  or  for  one  who  is 
learning  his  exercises  to  his  gymnastic  master  about  the 
ailments  of  his  body, — or  for  one  not  to  tell  the  pilot 
the  real  state  of  what  concerns  the  ship  and  sailors, 
how  himself  and  the  other  sailors  are  performing  their 
duty.  Most  true,  said  he.  If,  however,  he  should  de- 
tect any  other  citizen  in  a  falsehood  — 

.    .    .    of  those,  who  by  profession  serve 
The  public,  prophet,  healer  of  disease, 
Or  him  who  makes  the  shafts  of  spears, 

he  will  punish  him,  as  introducing  a  practice  subversive 
and  destructive  of  the  city,  as  well  as  of  a  ship.  If,  at 
least,  it  is  on  speech  that  actions  are  completed.  But 
what ;  will  our  youths  have  no  need  of  temperance  ? 
Certainly.  And  are  not  such  as  these  in  general  the 
principal  parts  of  temperance ;  namely,  obedience  to  gov- 
ernors,—  and  also  that  the  governors  themselves  be  tem- 
perate in  drinking,  feasting,  and  pleasures  of  love  ?  I 
am  quite  of  that  opinion.  And  we  shall  say,  I  believe, 
that  such  views  are  just, — just  as  in  Homer  Diomedes 
says : — 

Sit  thou  in  silence,  and  obey  my  speech, — 

and  what  is  in  connection  therev/ith, — thus: 

So  moved  the  Greeks  successive,  ev'ry  chief 
His  loud  command  proclaiming,  while  the  rest, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


97 


As  voice  in  all  those  thousands  none  had  been, 
Heard  mute    .    .  . 

and  SO  on.    Well  spoken.    But  what  of  such  as  these  ? 

Oh!  charged  with  wine,  in  steadfastness  of  face 
Dog  uuabash'd,  and  yet  at  heart  a  deer, 

and  as  respects  what  follows,  and  whatever  other  childish 
effusions  arc  uttered  in  prose  or  verse  by  private  individ- 
uals, are  they  well  [pronounced]  ?  No,  not  well :  for, 
methinks,  even  as  respects  temperance,  such  [discourses] 
are  not  fit  for  the  young  to  hear ;  and  supposing  they  do 
afford  some  other  sort  of  pleasure,  it  is  no  wonder:  but 
what  is  your  notion  of  the  matter  ?  The  same  as  your 
own,  said  he. 

Chap.  IV.  What  ?  To  make  the  wisest  man  say,  that 
it  appears  to  him  supremely  beautiful,  when 

.    .    .    the  steaming  table's  spread 

With  plenteous  viands,  while  the  cups,  with  wine 

From  brimming  beakers  fill'd,  pass  brisk  around  — 

does  it  seem  proper  to  you  that  a  youth  should  hear,  in 
order  to  obtain  a  command   over  himself;  or  yet  this: 

.        .    most  miserable  it  is, 

To  die  of  famine  and  have  adverse  fate; 

or  that  Zeus,  through  desire  for  the  pleasures  of  love, 
could  easily  forget  all  that  in  solitary  watching  he  had 
revolved  in  his  mind,  while  other  gods  and  men  were 
asleep,  and  could  be  so  struck  on  seeing  Hera,  as  not  even 
to  care  to  enter  his  chamber,  but  to  desire  connection  with 
her  on  the  very  spot  to  embrace  her  on  the  ground,  and 
at  the  same  time  to  declare  that  he  was  possessed  with  a 
desire,  exceeding  even  what  he  felt  on  their  first  acquaint- 
ance, 

.    .    .    Hidden  from  their  parents  dear; 

nor  yet  how  Ares  and  Aphrodite  were  bound  by  Hephaestus, 
and  other  such  things  ?  No,  by  Zeus,  said  he ;  these  seem 
quite  unfit.  But  if,  said  I,  any  instances  of  self-denial  in 
all  matters  are  both  to  be  spoken  of  and  practiced  by  men 
of  eminence,  these  should  be  held  up  for  a  spectacle  and 
celebrated  in  verse, — such  as  this: 
7 


98 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


.    .    .    Smiting  on  his  breast,  thus  he  reproved 
The  mutinous  inhabitant  within. 

Just  SO,  by  all  means,  said  he.  Of  course,  then,  we  can- 
not by  any  means  allow  men  to  receive  bribes,  or  be  cove- 
tous. By  no  means.  Neither  must  we  sing  to  them, 
that 

Gifts  gain  the  gods  and  venerable  kings;* 

neither  can  we  commend  Phoenix,  the  tutor  of  Achilles, 
as  if  he  spoke  correctly,  when  counselling  him  to  accept 
of  presents  and  assist  the  Greeks,  but,  without  presents, 
not  to  desist  from  his  wrath :  nor  again,  should  we  com- 
mend Achilles  himself,  or  approve  of  his  being  so  covetous 
as  to  receive  presents  from  Agamemnon,  and,  likewise 
for  giving  up  the  dead  body  of  Hector,  on  receiving  a 
ransom,  when  otherwise  he  would  not  do  so.  Of  course 
it  is  not  right,  said  he,  to  commend  such  conduct  as  this. 
I  am  loth,  said  I,  for  Homer's  sake,  to  say,  that  it  is 
not  allowable  to  allege  these  things  against  Achilles,  or 
to  believe  them,  when  said  by  others;  nor,  again,  that 
he  spoke  thus  to  Apollo : 

Oh !  of  all  the  powers  above, 
To  me  most  adverse,  archer  of  the  skies ! 
Thou  hast  beguiled  me,  leading  me  away.  .  . 
And  hast  defrauded  me  of  great  renown. 
Ah !  had  I  power,  I  would  requite  thee  well, 

and  how  he  disobeyed  the  river  [Xanthus],  though  a  divin- 
ity, and  was  ready  to  fight ;  and  again,  how  he  says  to  that 
other  river,  Spercheius,  with  his  sacred  locks, 

Thy  lock  to  great  Patroclus  I  could  give, 
Who  now  is  dead.    .    .  . 

Now,  that  he  actually  did  this,  we  cannot  believe.  And 
again,  the  dragging  of  Hector  round  the  tomb  of  Patro- 
clus, and  the  murder  of  the  captives  at  his  funeral  pile, 
—  tve  shall  deny  that  all  this  is  spoken  truly;  nor  shall 
we  suffer  our  people  to  believe,  that  Achilles,  the  son  of 
a  goddess,  and  of  Peleus,  the  most  wise  of  men,  and  the 
third  from  Jupiter,  educated  also  by  that  sage  Chiron, 

*  This  verse  is  not  to  be  found  in  any  of  Homer's  writings  ; 
and  Suidas  ascribes  it  to  Hesiod.  Euripides  has  a  similar  sentiment, 
Med.  v.,  934. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


99 


could  be  of  so  disordered  a  constitution  as  to  have  within 
him  two  positively  opposite   moral  ailments, — illiberality  , 
and  covetousness,  and  moreover  a  contempt  both  of  gods 
and  men.    You  say  right,  replied  he. 

Chap.  V.  Let  us  not,  then,  believe  these  things,  said  I, 
nor  yet  suffer  any  to  say,  that  Theseus,  son  of  Poseidon, 
and  Pirithous,  son  of  Zeus,  were  impelled  to  such  dire  ab- 
ductions ;  nor  that  any  other  son  of  a  deity,  or  hero  either, 
would  dare  to  commit  horrible  and  impious  deeds,  such 
as  now  they  falsely  ascribe  to  them;  but  let  us  compel 
the  poets  to  say,  either  that  the  actions  do  not  belong  to 
these  persons,  or  that  these  persons  are  not  the  children 
of  gods, — but  not  to  say  both,  nor  yet  try  to  persuade 
our  youth  that  the  gods  are  the  origin  of  evil,  and  heroes 
no  better  than  men:  for  just  as  we  said  before,  these 
[statements]  are  neither  holy  nor  true;  inasmuch  as  we 
have  somewhere  or  other  shown,  that  evils  cannot  pos- 
sibly proceed  from  the  gods.  Of  coui-se  not.  But,  be- 
sides this,  they  are  hurtful  to  the  hearers  also ;  for  every 
one  will  pardon  his  own  depravity,  through  the  persua- 
sion that  even  the  near  relatives  of  the  gods,  near  to 
Zeus  himself,  do,  and  have  done,  things  of  a  similar 
nature,  of  whom  it  has  been  written, — 

They,  on  the  top  o£  Ida,  have  uprear'd 
To  parent  Jupiter  an  altar;  — 

And, 

Whose  blood  derived  from  gods  is  not  extinct. 

Wherefore,  we  should  suppress  all  such  fables,  lest  they 
create  in  our  youth  a  great  readiness  for  committing 
wickedness.  We  should  so,  of  course,  replied  he.  What 
other  species  of  argument,  then,  said  I, —  since  we  are 
speaking  about  arguments  — have  we  still  remaining, 
which  ought,  or  ought  not,  to  be  maintained  ?  For  in 
what  manner  we  ought  to  speak  of  the  gods  we  have 
already  mentioned,  and  likewise  of  demons  and  heroes, 
and  those,  too,  in  Hades.  Certainly.  Does  it  not  remain, 
then,  to  speak  concerning  men  ?  Clearly  so.  Still  it  is 
impossible  for  us,  my  friend,  to  regulate  this,  at  present. 
How  ?  Because  we  shall  say,  I  think,  that  the  poets  and 
orators  speak  amiss  in  most  important  respects  concern- 


lOO 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


ing  mankind,  as  [  for  instance],  that  many  are  unjust, 
and  yet  happy,  while  the  j  ust  are  miserable ;  and  that  in- 
justice is  profitable,  if  it  escape  observation,  while  justice 
is  another's  gain,  indeed,  but  injury  to  one's  self;  such 
things,  as  these,  we  must  forbid  them  to  say,  but  yet  bid 
them  sing  and  compose  in  fable  the  very  contrary.  Do 
you  not  think  so  ?  I  know  it  well,  said  he.  If,  then, 
you  acknowledge  that  I  am  right,  shall  I  conclude  that  you 
have  admitted  what  all  along  we  were  seeking  for  ?  Yot- 
judge  right,  said  he.  Shall  we  not  allow,  then,  that  such 
arguments  may  be  stated  about  men,  whenever  we  shall 
have  discovered  the  nature  of  justice, —  and  how  it  is 
naturally  profitable  for  the  just  man  to  be  such,  whether 
he  seem  so  or  not  ?    Most  true,  replied  he. 

Chap. VI.  Concerning  the  arguments,  then,  let  what 
we  have  said  suffice,  and  now  we  should  consider,  me- 
thinks,  the  manner  of  stating  them;  and  then  we  shall 
have  completely  considered,  both  what  is  to  be  spoken, 
and  the  manner  how.  Adimantus  here  said:  What  you 
now  say,  I  do  not  tmderstand.  Nevertheless,  replied  I, 
it  needs  you  should.  Perhaps,  then,  you  will  understand 
it  better  in  this  way:  is  not  everything  told  by  the 
mythologists  or  poets,  a  narrative  of  the  past,  present, 
or  future  ?  Of  course,  replied  he.  And  do  not  they 
execute  it,  either  in  simple  narrative,  or  through  the 
medium  of  imitation,  or  both  ?  This,  too,  replied  he,  I 
yet  require  to  understand  more  plainly.  I  appear,  said 
I,  to  be  a  ridiculous  and  dull  instructor:  like  those, 
then,  who  are  unable  to  speak,  I  will  endeavor  to  explain 
my  meaning,  — not  the  whole  generally,  but  by  a  par- 
ticular case.  And  tell  me, —  are  you  acquainted  with  the 
opening  of  the  "  Iliad,  where  the  poet  says,  Chryses 
entreated  Agamemnon  to  ransom  his  daughter;  but  that 
he  was  angry,  whereupon  the  former,  since  he  did  not 
obtain  his  request,  besought  the  god,  against  the  Greeks  ? 
I  know  it.    You  know,  then,  that  down  to  these  verses,  — 

His  supplication  was  at  large  to  all 

The  host  of  Greece ;  but  most  of  all  to  two. 

The  sons  of  Atreus,  highest  in  command, — 

the  poet  himself  speaks,  and  does  not  attempt  to  divert 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


lOI 


our  attention  elsewhere,  as  if  any  other  person  were 
speaking  except  himself;  but  as  to  what  he  says  after 
this,  he  speaks  as  though  he  himself  were  Chryses,  and 
tries  all  he  can  to  make  t;s  think  that  the  speaker  is  not 
Homer,  but  the  priest,  an  old  man:  and  thus  he  has 
composed  nearly  all  the  rest  of  the  narrative  of  what  hap- 
pened at  Troy,  and  in  Ithaca,  and  the  adventures  through- 
out the  "Odyssey. "  Yes,  certainly,  replied  he.  Is  it  not 
narrative,  then,  when  he  recites  the  several  speeches,  and 
also  when  [he  recites]  what  intervenes  between  the 
speeches  ?  Of  course.  But  when  he  speaks  in  the  person 
of  another,  do  we  not  say,  that  then  he  assimilates 
his  speech  as  much  as  possible  to  each  person  whom 
he  introduces  as  speaking  ?  We  will  grant  it ;  why 
not  ?  And  is  not  [  a  poet's  ]  assimilation  of  himself 
to  another,  either  in  voice  or  figure,  an  imitation  of  that 
person  to  whom  he  assimilates  himself  ?  Of  course.  In 
such  a  case  as  this,  then,  it  seems,  both  he  and  the 
other  poets  execute  their  narrative  by  rrieans  of  imitation  ? 
Certainly.  But  if  the  poet  were  not  to  conceal  himself 
at  all,  his  whole  action  and  narrative  would  be  without 
imitation.  That  you  may  not  say,  however,  that  you  do 
not  again  understand  how  this  can  be,  I  will  tell  you.  If, 
for  instance,  in  relating  how  Chryses  came  with  his 
daughter's  ransom,  beseeching  the  Greeks,  but  chiefly 
the  kings.  Homer  had  subsequently  spoken,  not  in  the 
character  of  Chryses,  but  still  as  Homer,  you  know  it 
would  not  be  imitation,  but  only  simple  narrative:  and 
it  would  have  been  somehow  thus  ( I  shall  speak  without 
metre,  for  I  am  no  poet ) :  "  The  priest  came  and  prayed, 
that  the  gods  would  allow  them  to  take  Troy,  and  return 
in  safety;  and  begged  them  also  to  restore  him  his 
daughter,  and  accept  the  presents,  out  of  respect,  to  the 
god.  When  he  had  said  this,  all  the  rest  showed  respect, 
and  consented;  but  Agamemnon  became  enraged,  and 
charged  him  to  depart  instantly,  and  not  return,  lest  his 
sceptre  and  the  garlands  of  the  god  should  not  avail  him, 
and  added  also,  that,  before  his  daughter  should  be  ran- 
somed she  should  grow  old  with  him  in  Argos;  and  he 
ordered  him  to  be  gone,  and  not  irritate  him  if  he  would 
get  home  in  safety.    The  old  man  on  hearing  this  was 


I02 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


terrified  and  went  away  in  silence.  And  after  his  retir- 
ing from  the  camp  he  offered  numerous  prayers  to  Apollo, 
calling  on  the  god  by  his  various  names,  and  reminding 
as  well  as  imploring  him,  that,  if  ever,  either  in  the 
building  of  temples,  or  the  offering  of  sacrifices,  he  had 
made  any  acceptable  presents, —  for  the  sake  of  these 
then  he  besought  him,  to  avenge  with  his  shafts  on  the 
Greeks  the  tears  [that  had  been  shed]  by  himself."  Thus 
far,  said  I,  friend,  the  narrative  is  simple,  without  imita- 
tion.   I  understand,  said  he. 

Chap.  VII.  Understand,  then,  said  I,  that  the  oppo- 
site of  this  happens,  when  one  takes  out  the  poet's  words 
between  the  speeches,  and  leaves  only  the  dialogue.  This 
too,  said  he,  I  understand,  that  something  like  this  takes 
place  with  tragedies.  You  have  apprehended  my  mean- 
ing quite  correctly,  said  I.  And  methinks,  I  can  now 
make  plain  to  you  what  before  I  could  not, —  that  in 
poetry,  and  all  fabulous  writing,  one  species  of  it  is 
wholly  imitative,  as,  for  instance  (just  as  you  say),  trag- 
edy and  comedy ;  another  species  employs  the  narration 
of  the  poet  himself  (you  will  find  this  chiefly  in  dithy- 
rambics) ;  and  another  again  by  both,  as  in  epic  poetry,  and 
many  other  kinds  besides :  if  you  understand  me.  Aye, 
—  I  now  understand,  replied  he,  what  you  meant  before. 
Remember,  too,  that  we  were  before  saying,  that  it  had 
already  been  settled  what  were  to  be  the  subjects  of 
speech,  hxit  it  yet  remained  to  be  considered  how  they 
should  be  spoken.  I  do  remember.  This  then,  is  the 
very  thing  that  I  was  saying, — namely  that  we  ought 
to  have  agreed,  Avhether  we  will  allow  the  poets  to 
make  us  narratives  wholly  through  the  medium  of  imi- 
tation, or  partly  through  imitation,  partly  not  so, — 
and,  of  what  kind  in  each, —  or  lastly  whether  they  are 
not  to  employ  imitation  at  all.  I  guess,  said  he,  you 
are  inquiring,  whether  we  are  to  receive  tragedy  and 
comedy  into  our  state,  or  not.  Perhaps  so,  said  I,  and 
something  more  too, —  for  I  as  yet  know  not;  but  wher- 
ever our  reason,  wind-like,  carries  us,  there  must  we 
go.  You  say  well,  said  he.  Let  us  then  consider,  Ad- 
imantus,  whether  our  guardians  ought  to  be  practiced 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


103 


imitators  or  not:  does  not  this  follow,  from  what  has 
been  above  stated,  that  each  may  exercise  one  busi- 
ness well,  but  many,  not,  —  and  should  he  attempt  it, 
that,  in  grasping  at  many  things,  he  will  fail  in  all, 
and  excel,  perhaps,  in  none  ?  Of  course  he  will.  Well 
then,  does  not  the  same  reasoning  apply  to  imi- 
tation, that  the  same  man  cannot  so  well  imitate 
many  things  as  one  ?  Of  course  he  cannot.  In  that 
case  he  can  perform  scarcely  any  of  the  more  emi- 
nent employments,  and  at  the  same  time  imitate  many 
things,  and  be  an  apt  imitator, —  since  the  same  persons 
cannot  well  execute  two  different  sorts  of  imitations, 
apparently  similar  to  each  other ;  as,  for  instance,  com- 
edy and  tragedy:  and  as  for  that,  did  you  not,  just 
now,  call  both  of  these  imitations  ?  I  did ;  and  you 
are  right  in  saying,  that  the  same  persons  cannot  suc- 
ceed [in  both].  Nor  can  they,  at  the  same,  be  rhap- 
sodists  and  actors  ?  True.  Nor  can  the  same  persons 
be  actors  in  comedies  and  in  tragedies:  and  all  these 
are  imitations,  are  they  not?  Aye, —  surely.  The  genius 
of  man,  Adimantus,  seems  to  have  been  cut  up  even 
into  a  still  greater  number  of  minute  particles, —  so  much 
so,  indeed,  that  it  cannot  properly  imitate  many  things, 
or  perform  [in  earnest]  those  very  things,  of  which  even 
the  imitations  are  the  resemblances.    Most  true,  said  he. 

Chap.  VIII.  If  we  are  to  hold  to  our  first  reasoning, 
therefore,  that  our  guardians,  though  unoccupied  in  any 
productive  art  whatever,  ought  to  be  the  most  skillful 
laborers  for  the  liberty  of  the  state,  and  to  mind  noth- 
ing but  what  refers  thereto,  it  were  surely  proper  that 
they  should  neither  perform  nor  imitate  anything 
else,  —  but,  should  they  imitate  at  all,  to  imitate  from 
their  childhood  upward  just  what  correspond  with  these, 
—  brave,  temperate,  pious,  generous-hearted  men,  and 
the  like;  but  neither  to  perform  nor  desire  to  imitate 
what  is  illiberal  or  base,  lest  from  the  very  imitation 
they  come  to  experience  the  positive  reality.  Have  you 
not  also  observed,  that  imitations,  if  from  earliest  youth 
onward  they  be  long  continued,  become  established  in 
the  manners  and  natural  temper,  both  as  to  body  and 


104 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


voice,  and  intellect  too  ?  Very  much  so,  replied  he. 
Surely  we  are  not  to  allow  those,  said  I,  for  whom  we 
profess  to  be  anxious,  and  who  ought  to  be  good  men, 
to  imitate  a  woman  either  young  or  old,  whether  revil- 
ing her  husband,  or  contending  against  the  gods,  and 
speaking  boastingly  from  the  idea  of  her  own  hap- 
piness; neither  should  we  imitate  her  in  her  misfor- 
tunes, sorrows,  and  lamentations,  when  sick,  or  in  love, 
or  in  the  throes  of  childbirth ;  we  shall  be  far  from  allow- 
ing this.  By  all  means,  replied  he.  Nor  to  imitate  male 
or  female  servants  in  doing  servants'  duties  ?  Nor  this 
either.  Nor  yet,  it  seems,  depraved  men,  dastards,  and 
those  who  do  the  contrary  of  what  has  been  just  men- 
tioned, who  revile  and  rail  at  one  another;  and  speak 
abominable  things,  whether  drunk  or  sober,  or  [do]  any 
other  misdeeds,  such  as  this  class  of  persons  are  guilty 
of,  either  in  words  or  actions,  either  as  respects  them- 
selves or  others  ?  I  think  too,  that  they  should  not  even 
accustom  themselves  to  resemble  madmen,  in  words  or 
actions,  for  one  may  know  both  the  mad  and  wicked, 
whether  men  or  women ;  yet  we  must  not  either  do  or  imi- 
tate any  one  of  their  actions.  ,  Most  true,  said  he.  But 
what,  said  I ;  are  braziers  or  other  craftsmen,  or  such  as 
row  vessels,  or  pilot  the  sailors,  or  any  others  connected 
therewith  to  be  imitated  ?  How  can  it  be  so,  said  he,  by 
those  at  least  who  are  not  allowed  to  give  their  mind  up 
to  those  pursuits  ?  But  what,  —  are  they  to  imitate  horses 
neighing,  or  bulls  lowing,  or  rivers  murmuring,  or  the 
sea  roaring,  or  thunder,  and  all  such  like  things  ?  No 
surely,  said  he:  we  have  forbidden  them  either  to  get 
mad,  or  resemble  madmen.  If  then  I  understand  what 
you  mean,  replied  I,  there  is  a  sort  of  speech  and  nar- 
rative in  which  the  truly  good  and  worthy  man  expresses 
himself,  when  required  to  say  anything,  —  and  another 
again  quite  dissimilar,  to  which  a  person  quite  oppositely 
born  and  bred  always  adheres,  and  in  which  [he  always] 
expresses  himself.  But  what  sorts  are  they  ?  asked  he. 
That  man,  said  I,  seems  a  worthy  man,  who  on  coming 
in  his  narrative  to  any  speech  or  action  of  a  good  man, 
will  willingly  tell  it,  as  if  he  were  himself  the  man,  and  not 
be  ashamed  of  such  an  imitation, — the  more  especially, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


he  be  imitating  a  good  man  acting  cautiously  and  sen- 
sibly, one  who  is  seldom  and  but  little  led  astray 
through  ailments,  or  love,  or  drink,  or  any  other  mishap. 
But  when  there  arises  [in  his  narrative]  anything  un- 
worthy of  himself,  he  will  not  be  in  any  hurry  to  assimi- 
late himself  to  one  that  is  worse,  except  it  be  for  a  short 
time  when  he  is  doing  some  good;  and  besides,  he  will 
be  ashamed  of  it,  both  as  being  unpracticed  in  the  imi- 
tation of  such  characters,  and  also,  as  unwilling  to  mold 
himself,  and  stand  among  the  models  of  baser  men, 
whom  all  the  while  he  despises  in  his  heart  [bear- 
ing with  them]  only  for  mere  amusement.  Probably, 
said  he. 

Chap.  IX.  Will  he  employ  a  narrative  such  as  that  we 
not  long  since  described  in  the  case  of  Homer's  poems; 
and  will  his  language  partake  both  of  imitation  and  sim- 
ple narrative,  but  have  only  a  small  portion  of  imitation 
inserted  in  a  great  quantity  [of  plain  ■  narrative]  ?  Do 
you  think  I  speak  to  the  purpose  or  not  ?  Yes,  certainly, 
replied  he ;  that  must  needs  be  the  type  of  such  an  ora- 
tor. In  that  case,  said  I,  will  not  such  a  man,  the  more 
he  is  depraved,  the  more  readily  narrate  any  matter 
whatever,  thinking  nothing  unworthy  of  him, —  so  much 
so,  indeed,  that  he  will  undertake  to  imitate  everything 
zealously  and  in  public,  and  such  especially  as  we  just 
mentioned,  thunderings  and  noises  of  w4nds  and  tempests, 
and  of  axles  and  wheels,  and  of  trumpets,  pipes,  whistles, 
and  sounds  of  all  kinds  of  instruments,  and  the  cries  of 
dogs  likewise,  and  sheep,  and  birds  ?  and  of  course  the 
whole  expression  of  this  is  to  be  by  imitation,  both  in 
voice  and  gestures,  partaking  but  slightly  of  narrative. 
This  too,  said  he,  is  a  matter  of  course.  These,  said  I, 
are  what  I  termed  the  two  kinds  of  diction.  Yes,  they 
are,  replied  he.  Has  not  one  of  the  two,  then,  very 
trifling'  variations;  and  to  give  the  diction  a  becoming 
harmony  and  rhythm,  he  who  would  speak  correctly  must 
always  speak  in  the  same  style,  in  one  harmony, — for 
the  variations  are  but  trifling, —  and  of  course  in  a  rhythm 
closely  corresponding  ?  It  is  so,  clearly,  replied  he.  But 
as  to  the  other  kind,  does  it  not  require  the  contrary, — 


io6 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


all  kinds  of  harmonies  and  all  kinds  of  rh3'thms,  if, 
indeed,  it  is  to  be  naturally  expressed,  on  account  of  its 
having"  all  sorts  and  shades  of  variation  ?  That  is  pre- 
cisely the  case.  Do  not,  then,  all  the  poets,  and  writers 
of  narrative  generally,  use  one  or  other  of  these  models 
of  diction,  or  a  blending  of  the  other  two  ?  They  must, 
replied  he.  What  are  we  to  do  then,  said  I:  shall  we 
admit  into  our  state  all  of  these  [models],  or  only  one  of 
the  unmixed,  or  the  one  compounded  ?  If  my  opinion, 
replied  he,  is  to  prevail,  [you  should  employ]  that  uncom- 
pounded  one,  which  imitates  only  what  is  worthy.  But 
surely,  Adimantus  the  mixed  is  at  least  pleasant:  the 
most  pleasant  of  all,  both  to  children  and  pedagogies,  is 
the  opposite  or  what  you  choose,  and  it  is  so  to  the  crowd 
likewise.  Yes,  it  is  the  most  pleasant.  But  probably, 
said  I,  you  will  not  deem  it  suited  to  our  civil  establish- 
ment, because  with  us  no  man  can  be  engaged  in  two  or 
more  occupations,  but  each  individual  is  employed  in  one 
only  ?  Of  course,  it  is  not  fit.  Shall  we  not  find  then, 
that  in  such  a  state  alone,  a  shoemaker  is  only  a  shoe- 
maker, and  not  a  pilot  as  well  as  a  shoemaker;  and  that 
the  husbandman  is  only  a  husbandman,  and  not  a  judge 
as  well  as  a  husbandman;  and  that  the  soldier  is  a  sol- 
dier, and  not  a  money-maker  as  well;  and  so  with  the 
rest  ?  True,  replied  he.  With  respect  to  the  man  then, 
who  is  enabled  by  his  talents  to  become  everything  and 
imitate  everything,  if  that  person  were  to  come  into  our 
state  and  wish  to  show  us  his  poems,  we  should  respect 
him  as  a  pious,  wonderful,  and  pleasant  person,  but 
would  say  that  we  have  no  such  person  in  our  state,  nor 
could  such  be  allowed;  and  then  we  should  send  him  to 
some  other  state,  pouring  oil.  on  his  head,  and  crowning 
him  with  a  v/oolen  chaplet,  while  we  ourselves  would 
call  in,  to  our  advantage,  a  more  austere  and  less  pleas- 
ing poet  and  mythologist,  to  imitate  for  us  the  diction  of 
what  is  becoming,  and  say  whatever  he  says,  in  accord- 
ance with  those  models  which  we  regularly  set  forth  on 
first  undertaking  the  education  of  our  soldiers.  So  we 
should  do,  replied  he,  if  it  depended  on  us.  Now,  then, 
friend,  it  seems  that  we  have  thoroughly  discussed  that 
part  of  music  which  concerns  oratory  and  fable ;  for  what 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


107 


is  to  be  spoken,  and  how  spoken,  we  have  already  con- 
sidered.   I  think  so,  too,  observed  he. 

Chap.  X.  Are  we  not  next  to  speak,  said  I,  about  the 
style  of  song  and  melody  ?  Clearly  so.  Cannot  one  al- 
ready find  out,  then,  what  we  ought  to  say  about  these 
things,  and  of  what  kind  they  should  be,  if  we  would  be 
consistent  with  what  we  have  above  said  ?  Here  Glaucon, 
smiling,  said, —  I  seem,  indeed,  Socrates,  to  be  a  stranger 
to  the  whole  business,  for  I  cannot  at  present  conceive 
what  we  ought  to  say,  though  I  have  some  inkling.  You 
can,  surely,  said  I,  at  any  rate,  fully  state  this  much, — 
that  melody  has  three  constituents, —  sentiment,  harmony, 
and  rhythm  ?  Yes,  replied  he,  this  much,  at  any  rate. 
And  as  concerns  the  sentiment, — that  differs  in  nothing 
from  the  sentiment  which  is  not  sung,  inasmuch  as  it 
ought  to  be  performed  on  the  same  models,  as  we  just 
said,  and  after  the  same  fashion.  True,  said  he.  Surely, 
then,  the  harmony  and  rhythm  should  correspond  with 
the  sentiment  ?  Of  course.  But  yet  we  said  there  was 
no  need  for  wailings  and  lamentations  in  written  compo- 
sitions? None,  certainly.  Which,  then,  are  the  querulous 
harmonies?  Tell  me, —  for  you  are  a  musician.  The 
mixed  Lydian,  replied  he,  and  the  sharp  Lydian,  and 
some  others  of  this  kind.  Are  not  these,  then,  said  I, 
to  be  rejected,  as  being  useless  even  to  well-conducted 
women,  not  to  speak  of  men  ?  Certainly.  Drunkenness, 
moreover,  is  highly  unbecoming  in  our  guardians,  as  well 
as  effeminacy  and  idleness  ?  Of  course.  Which,  then,  are 
the  effeminate  and  convivial  harmonies  ?  The  Ionic,  re- 
plied he,  and  the  Lydian,  which  are  called  relaxing. 
Can  you  use  these,  my  friend,  for  military  men  ?  By  no 
means,  replied  he;  but  it  seems  you  have  yet  the  Doric 
remaining,  and  the  Phrygian.  I  am  not  learned,  said  I, 
in  harmonies ;  but  let  us  put  out  of  the  question  that  har- 
mony, which  would  fitly  imitate  the  voice  and  accents  of 
a  brave  man,  engaged  in  military  action,  and  every  sort 
of  rough  adventure,  and,  should  he  fail  of  success,  rush- 
ing on  wounds  or  death,  or  any  other  distress,  all  the 
while  regularly  and  resolutely  battling  with  fortune:  let 
us  put  out  of  the  question,  also,  that  kind  of  harmony 


io8 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


which  suits  what  is  peaceable,  where  there  is  no  violence, 
but  everything  is  voluntary,  where  a  man  either  persuades 
or  beseeches  any  one  about  anything, — either  God  by 
prayer,  or  man  by  instruction  and  admonition ;  or,  on  the 
other  hand,  where  one  submits  to  another's  entreaties,  in- 
structions, or  persuasion,  and  in  all  these  points  acts  in  ac- 
cordance with  intellect,  and  does  not  behave  haughtily,  but 
demeans  himself  soberly  and  moderately,  gladly  embracing 
whatever  may  happen :  put  out  of  the  question,  too,  these 
two  harmonies,  the  vehement  and  the  voluntary,  which  so 
capitally  imitate  the  voice  both  of  the  unfortunate  and 
fortunate, —  the  moderate  and  brave.  Aye,  you  are  anxious, 
replied  he,  to  leave  no  others  but  those  I  now  mentioned. 
We  shall  have  no  need,  then,  said  I,  in  our  songs  and 
melodies,  for  many  strings  or  instruments  expressive  of 
all  the  harmonies.  We  shall  not,  it  seems,  replied  he. 
We  are  not  to  maintain,  then,  such  craftsmen  as  make 
harps  and  spinets,  and  instruments  of  many  strings  that 
produce  a  variety  of  harmony.  We  are  not,  it  seems. 
But  what, —  will  you  admit  into  your  city  flutemakers  or 
fluteplayers  ?  for,  are  not  those  instruments  which  consist 
of  the  greatest  number  of  strings,*  and  those  that  produce 
all  kinds  of  harmony,  imitations  of  the  flute  ?  Plainly  so, 
replied  he.  There  are  still  left  you,  then,  said  I,  the 
lyre  and  the  harp,  as  useful  for  your  city;  and,  as  respects 
the  fields  again,  a  reed  or  so  for  the  shepherds  ?  This  is 
quite  reasonable,  said  he.  We  are  doing  nothing  new, 
then,  replied  I,  in  preferring  Apollo  and  Apollo's  instru- 
ments, to  Marsyas  and  his  instruments.  Truly  not,  it 
seems,  replied  he.  By  the  dog,  too,  said  I,  we  have  been 
once  more  unconsciously  cleansing  our  city,  which,  we 
just  now  said,  had  become  luxurious.  Aye,  we  were 
wise  to  do  so,  replied  he. 

*A11  musical  instruments  are  here  rejected,  which,  from  having 
many  chords,  have  the  power  of  soothing  the  ear  with  a  variety  of 
harmonies,  and  yet  do  not  improve  the  mind,  but  rather  render  it 
effeminate  and  fill  it  with  sensual  desires.  Among  these  is  classed  the 
lyre,  —  which  is  rejected  also  by  Pythagoras,  who  (according  to  lambli- 
chus)  Tovg  av?MVQ  vneXaiiPuviv  vjipLariKdv  -e  kcu  iravriyvpiKhv  kol  ovdafiCiq 
ilevOkpLov  Tov  7IX0V  ixeiv.  See  also  Plato's  Gorgias,  p.  501  e,  where  he 
conceives  the  art  of  fluteplaying  —  r^v  rjdovrjv  ijfiuv  fi6vov  Siui:rn\  a?M  cT 
ovdtv  (ppovTi^eiv. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Chap.  XI.  Come,  then,  said  I,  and  let  us  cleanse  the 
remainder;  for  what  concerns  rhythm  will  follow  after 
harmonies, —  namely,  that  our  citizens  pursue  not  ever- 
varying  rhythms  having  a  variety  of  cadences,  but  ob- 
serve what  are  the  rhythms  of  an  orderly  and  manly  life ; 
and  observing  these,  should  compel  the  time  and  the 
melody  to  subserve  the  sentiment,  and  not  the  sentiment 
to  subserve  the  time  and  melody.  Now,  what  these 
rhythms  are,  it  is  your  business  to  tell,  as  you  did  with 
the  harmonics.  Nay,  by  Zeus,  replied  he,  I  cannot 
tell:  so  far,  indeed,  as  that  there  are  three  forms  from 
which  all  measures  are  composed,  just  as  there  are  four 
primitive  sounds,  from  which  all  harmony  is  derived, 
this  I  can  say  from  observation ;  but  what  kind  of  imita- 
tions they  are,  and  of  what  kind  of  life,  I  am  not  able  to 
tell.  These  things,  however,  said  I,  with  Damon's*  aid 
we  will  consider, —  what  measures  suit  illiberality  and  in- 
solence, or  madness  and  any  other  ill  disposition, —  and 
what  rhythms  also  must  be  left  for  their  opposites.  And 
I  have  a  confused  recollection  of  having  heard  him  call 
a  certain  [measure]  enoplion,  which  was  compound, 
another  a  dactyl,  and  a  third  an  heroic  measure, —  em- 
bellishing them  I  know  not  how, —  making  them  equal 
above  and  below,  in  breadth  and  length:  and  methinks 
he  called  one  an  iambus,  and  another  a  trochee,  and  reg- 
ulated also  the  long  and  short  measures.  In  some  of 
these,  too,  I  fancy,  he  both  blamed  and  praised  the  meas- 
ure of  the  foot,  no  less  than  the  numbers  themselves,  or 
something  compounded  of  both.  As  for  these  matters, 
however,  as  I  said,  let  them  be  thrown  on  Damon :  for 
to  define  them  distinctly,  indeed,  would  require  no 
small  discourse :  do  not  you  think  so  ?  No  small  one, 
truly.  But  as  for  this  point,  —  whether  the  propriety  or 
impropriety  is  dependent  on  the  good  or  ill  rhythm, —  can 
you  at  all  discern  that  ?  Of  course.  Moreover,  with  re- 
spect to  good  or  ill  rhythm,  the  one  depends  on  elegant 
expression,  and  conforms  to  it,  while  the  other  is  the 
reverse ;  and,  in  the  same  way,  as  to  the  harmonious  and 
discordant,  the  rhythm  and  harmony  being  subservient  to 

*  A  celebrated  musician  who  instructed  Pericles  in  that  art.  Comp. 
Rep.  iv.  ch.  3,  p.  424  c.    See  also  Plutarch,  "Life  of  Pericles, »  ch.  4. 


I  !0 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


the  sentiment,  as  we  just  said,  and  not  the  sentiment  to 
the  former.  These,  indeed,  said  he,  should  subserve  the 
sentiment.  And  what,  said  I,  as  to  the  manner  of  ex- 
pression, and  as  to  the  sentiment  itself,  must  it  not  be 
suited  to  the  temper  of  the  soul  ?  Of  course.  And  all 
the  rest  to  the  expression  ?  Yes.  Well,  then,  fine  ex- 
pression, fine  harmony,  perfect  propriety,  and  perfect 
rhythm,  are  dependent  on  good  disposition, —  not  that 
dullness  which  in  flattering  language  we  call  good  temper, 
but  the  intellect  itself,  adorned  with  excellent  and  amia- 
ble moral  feelings  ?  Surely,  altogether  so,  replied  he. 
Must  not  all  these  then  be  always  pursued  by  the  youth, 
if  they  would  perform  their  duties  ?  They  should,  indeed, 
be  so  pursued.  Painting,  indeed,  is,  somehow,  full  of 
these  things,  and  so  is  every  other  such  kind  of  crafts- 
manship ;  and  weaving,  too,  is  full  thereof,  and  embroid- 
ery and  architecture,  and  all  craftship  of  all  kinds  of 
implements;  and  yet  further,  the  nature  of  animal  bodies 
and  of  all  plants, —  for  in  all  these  is  found  either  pro- 
priety or  impropriety:  and,  moreover,  impropriety,  want 
of  rhythm,  and  want  of  harmony,  arc  close  akin  to  bad 
language  and  depraved  manners, — their  opposites  being 
likewise  related,  and  imitations  of  discretion  and  good 
morals.    Entirely  so,  replied  he. 

Chap.  XII.  Must  we,  then,  merely  superintend  the 
poets  and  oblige  them  to  present  in  their  poems  the  idea 
of  good  morals,  or  else  not  write  at  all  with  us;  or 
should  we  superintend  all  other  craftsmen  also,  and  re- 
strain this  immoral,  undisciplined,  illiberal,  indecent  style, 
so  as  not  to  exhibit  it  either  in  the  representation  of 
animals,  or  in  buildings,  or  in  any  other  craftsmanship, — 
so  that  he  who  cannot  do  this  may  not  be  suffered  to  work 
with  us  ?  [This  we  must  do]  for  fear  that  our  guar- 
dians, being  trained  by  images  of  evil,  as  in  bad  pasture- 
land,  by  every  day  plucking  and  eating  many  different 
things,  should  establish  imperceptibl}^  by  little  and  little, 
some  mighty  evil  in  their  soul ;  but  rather  should  we 
seek  for  such  craftsmen,  as  by  the  help  of  a  good  natural 
genius,  can  investigate  the  nature  of  the  beautiful  and 
becoming, — in  order  that  our  youths,  dwelling,  as  it  were, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


1 1 1 


in  a  healthful  place,  may  receive  advantage  on  all  sides, 
and  so  receive  some  service,  either  by  sight  or  hearing, 
from  fine  productions,  just  as  a  breeze  brings  health  from 
healthy  places,  and  imperceptibly  lead  them  from  childhood 
onward  to  resemblance,  friendship,  and  harmony  with 
right  reason.  Thus  indeed,  said  he,  they  would  be 
brought  up  in  the  best  possible  manner.  In  this  case, 
then,  Glaucon,  said  I;  is  not  musical  training  of  the 
utmost  importance,  inasmuch  as  rhythm  and  harmony 
enter  largely  into  the  inward  part  of  the  soul,  and  most 
powerfully  affect  it,  at  the  same  time  introducing  decorum, 
and  rendering  every  one  becoming,  if  properly  trained, 
and,  if  not  so,  the  reverse  ?  Moreover,  the  man,  who 
has  thus  been  brought  up  as  he  ought,  very  soon  per- 
ceives whatever  workmanship  is  defective  and  badly  exe- 
cuted, or  what  productions  are  of  such  description, —  and 
through  a  right  feeling  of  disgust  will  praise  and  rejoice  in 
the  beautiful,  and  receiving  it  in  his  soul  will  be  fostered 
thereby,  and  thus  become  a  worthy,  good  man,  — while, 
as  to  all  that  is  base,  he  will  rightly  despise  and  hate  it, 
even  from  early  youth,  and  before  he  can  partake  of 
reason;  and  again,  when  reason  comes,  having  been  thus 
trained,  he  will  heartily  embrace  it,  because  he  clearly 
recognizes  it  from  its  intimate  familiarity  with  himself. 
This  appears  to  me,  replied  he,  the  very  reason,  why  there  ,/ 
should  be  musical  training.  Just  as  in  learning  our  let- 
ters, said  I,  we  are  only  then  sufficiently  instructed,  when 
we  are  acquainted,  on  meeting  them,  with  the  few  elemen- 
tary letters  through  their  various  combinations,  and  do  not 
more  or  less  despise  them  as  unnecessary  to  be  learned,  but 
take  all  pains  to  understand  them  thoroughly, —  as  we  can- 
not be  good  grammarians  till  we  do  so.  True.  And  suppos- 
ing the  images  of  letters  were  seen  anywhere,  either  in  water 
or  in  mirrors,  should  we  not  recognize  them  before  the  let- 
ters themselves  ?  —  or  is  this  a  part  of  the  same  art  and 
study  ?  Surely.  Is  it  then  true,  what  I  say,  by  the  gods,  that 
in  this  case  we  shall  never  become  musicians,  neither 
ourselves  nor  the  guardians  we  talk  of  training,  unless 
we  understand  the  ideas  of  temperance,  fortitude,  liber- 
ality, and  magnificence,  and  whatever  are  akin  to  these, 
are  acquainted  also  with  their  contraries,  so  familiar  to 


112 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


all,  and  unless,  wheresoever  they  are,  we  observe  both 
the  virtues  themselves  and  the  images  thereof,  and  despise 
them  neither  in  small  nor  great  instances,  but  conceive 
them  to  be  rather  a  part  of  the  same  art  and  study.  It 
must  be  so,  said  he.  Must  not  that  person,  then,  said  I, 
whose  lot  it  is  to  have  virtuous  habits  in  his  soul,  and 
what  is  proportioned  and  corresponding  thereto  in  his 
appearance,  partake  of  the  same  impression  and  be  a  fine 
spectacle  to  any  one  who  is  able  to  behold  him  ?  Quite 
so.  Yet,  what  is  most  beautiful  is  most  lovely  ?  Of  course. 
He,  then,  who  is  most  musical  should  surely  love  those 
men,  who  are  most  eminent  in  this  way;  but  if  a  man 
be  unmusical,  he  will  not  love  them  ?  He  will  not,  replied 
he,  if  he  be  at  all  defective  in  his  soul:  still,  if  it  were 
in  his  body,  he  would  bear  with  it,  and  be  willing  to 
associate  with  him.  I  understand,  said  I,  that  your  favor- 
ites are  or  have  been  of  this  kind :  and  I  too  agree  to  that ; 
but  tell  me  this, — is  there  any  communion  between  tem- 
perance and  excessive  pleasure  ?  How  can  there  ?  said  he, 
for  such  pleasure  causes  a  privation  of  intellect,  not  less 
than  grief.  But  has  it  communion  with  any  other  virtue  ? 
Not  at  all.  "What  then, — has  it  communion  with  inso- 
lence and  intemperance  ?  Most  certainly.  Can  you 
mention  a  greater  and  more  acute  pleasure  than  what 
respects  the  matter  of  love  ?  I  cannot,  said  he,  nor  yet 
one  that  is  more  insane.  But  right  love  is  of  a  nature 
to  love  the  beautiful  and  the  good  temperately  and  har- 
moniously ?  Certainly.  Nothing,  then,  which  is  mad,  or 
allied  to  intemperance,  may  approach  real  and  right  love. 
It  may  not  approach  it.  Nor  may  pleasure  approach  it; 
neither  may  the  lover  and  the  person  he  loves  have  com- 
munion with  it,  if  they  are  rightly  to  love  and  be  beloved  ? 
No,  truly,  said  he;  they  may  not,  Socrates.  Thus,  then, 
it  seems,  you  will  lay  down  a  law  in  the  city  you  are 
establishing,  that  the  lover  shall  love,  converse,  and  asso- 
ciate with  the  objects  of  his  love,  as  with  a  son, — from 
a  virtuous  motive  and  with  his  consent;  and  as  to  every- 
thing else,  every  one  will  so  converse  with  him  whose 
love  he  solicits,  as  never  to  wish  to  associate  for  any  other 
purpose  but  what  we  have  said;  for  otherwise  he  would 
undergo   the   reproach   of  being   unmusical  and  unac- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OK  I'LATO 


113 


quainted  with  the  beautiful.  It  must  be  so,  replied  he. 
Do  not  you  think  then,  said  I,  that  our  discourse  eoneern- 
ing  music  is  now  concluded  ?  For  it  has  now  terminated 
where  it  ought, — as  what  is  concerned  with  the  art  of 
music  somehow  ought  to  terminate  in  the  love  of  the 
beautiful.    I  agree,  said  he. 

Chap.  XIII.  After  music,  then,  our  youths  must  be 
trained  in  gymnastics.  What  then  ?  In  this  likewise  they 
must  needs  be  accurately  trained,  from  infancy  upward 
through  their  whole  life:  —  For  the  matter,  methinks, 
stands  somehow  thus ;  and  do  you  also  consider.  I  do  not 
think  that  any  sound  body  can,  by  its  own  virtue,  render 
the  soul  good;  and  contrariwise,  that  a  good  soul  can,  by 
its  own  virtue,  render  the  body  the  best  possible :  what 
think  you  ?  I  think  so  too,  replied  he.  If  then,  after  hav- 
ing sufficiently  trained  the  intellect,  we  commit  to  it  the 
careful  management  of  what  concerns  ths  body,  shall  we 
not,  as  we  are  only  laying  down  patterns  (that  we  may 
not  be  tedious),  act  in  a  right  manner  ?  Entirely  so.  We 
say  then,  that  they  must  abstain  from  drunkenness;  for 
any  one,  rather  than  a  guardian,  might  be  allowed  to  get 
drunk,  and  not  know  where  he  is.  It  were  ridiculous,  said 
he,  for  a  guardian  to  need  a  guardian  himself.  But  what 
as  respects  meats;  for  these  men  are  wrestlers  in  most 
important  combats ;  are  they  not  ?  Yes.  Would  not  then 
the  bodily  state  of  the  wrestlers  suit  such  as  these  ?  Per- 
haps so.  But,  said  I,  they  are  a  sluggish  set,  and  of 
dubious  health:  do  you  not  observe,  that  they  sleep  out 
their  life ;  and,  that  if  they  only  ever  so  little  depart  from 
their  regular  diet,  such  wrestlers  become  extensively  and 
deeply  diseased  ?  I  do  observe  it.  But  a  more  elegant 
kind  of  exercise,  said  I,  is  required  for  our  military  wrest- 
lers,—  who,  as  dogs,  ought  to  be  wakeful,  and  see  and  hear 
most  acutely,  and  endure  in  their  expeditions,  many 
changes  of  water  and  food,  of  heat  and  cold,  that  so  they 
may  not  fail  in  their  health  ?  I  think  so.  Is  not  then  the 
best  kind  of  gymnastic  exercise  very  like  the  simple  music 
which  we  just  before  described  ?  How  mean  you  ?  That 
the  gymnastics  should  be  simple  and  moderate,  and  of 
that  kind  most  especially  which  concern  war.    Of  what 


114 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


kind  ?  Even  from  Homer,  said  I,  one  may  learn  such 
things  as  these :  for  yon  know,  that  in  their  military  expe- 
ditions, at  their  heroes'  banquets,  he  never  feasts  them 
with  fish,  not  even  while  they  were  by  the  sea  at  the  Helles- 
pont, nor  yet  with  boiled  flesh,  but  only  with  roast  meat, 
as  what  soldiers  can  most  easily  procure:  for,  in  short, 
one  can  everywhere  more  easily  use  fire,  than  carry  vessels 
about  ?  Yes.  Neither  does  Homer,  I  think,  make  any 
mention  of  seasonings :  and  this  is  what  every  wrestler 
knows, — that  the  body,  to  be  in  good  condition,  must 
abstain  from  these.  They  are  right,  said  he,  and  do 
abstain.  You  do  not  then  approve,  friend,  it  would  seem, 
of  the  Syracusan  table,  and  the  various  Sicilian  made- 
dishes,  since  you  think  the  other  right  ?  It  seems  I  do 
not.  You  will  disapprove  also  of  a  Corinthian  girl,  as  a 
mistress,  for  such  as  would  be  in  good  bodily  condition  ? 
By  all  means.  And  likewise  of  those  celebrated  delicacies 
of  Attic  confections  ?  Surely.  As  respects  all  such  feeding 
and  dieting,  if  we  compare  it  to  the  melody  and  song  pro- 
duced in  full  harmony  and  universal  rhythm,  will  not  the 
comparison  hold  good  ?  Of  course.  And  does  not  that 
diversity  cause  insubordination  in  this  case  —  disease  in  the 
V  other  ?  But  simplicity  in  music,  engenders  temperance  in 
the  soul, —  and  in  gymnastics,  bodily  health.  True,  said 
he.  And  when  insubordination  and  diseases  multiply  in  a 
city,  must  not  many  law-courts  and  medicine  halls  be 
opened ;  and  will  not  the  forensic  and  medicinal  arts  be  in 
reqtiest,  when  many,  even  of  the  free,  will  earnestly  apply 
to  them  ?    Of  course. 

Chap.  XIV.  Can  you  then  adduce  any  greater  proof 
of  bad  and  shameful  training  in  a  city,  than  the  fact  of 
their  needing  physicians  and  supreme  magistrates,  and 
these  too,  not  only  for  base  and  low  craftsmen,  but  for 
those  also,  who  boast  of  having  been  liberally  educated; 
and  again,  does  it  not  seem  base,  and  a  great  proof 
of  defective  education,  to  be  obliged  to  see  justice  pro- 
nounced on  us  by  others,  as  our  masters  and  judges, 
and  yet  to  have  no  sense  of  it  in  ourselves  ?  This, 
replied  he,  is  of  all  things  the  most  base.  And  deem 
you  not  this  far  more  base,  said  I;  when  a  person  not 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


"5 


only  spends  a  groat  part  of  his  life  in  courts  of  justice, 
as  defendant  or  plaintiff, — but,  from  ignorance  of  the 
beautiful,  thinks  he  is  renowned  for  his  very  dexterity 
in  doing  injustice,  and  his  cleverness  at  turning  through 
all  sorts  of  windings,  and  using  every  kind  of  subterfuge, 
with  the  idea  of  evading  justice,  —  and  all  this  for  the 
sake  of  small  and  contemptible  things,  —  ignorant  how 
much  better  and  more  noble  it  were  so  to  regulate  life 
as  not  to  need  a  sleepy  judge  ?  This,  replied  he,  is  still 
baser  than  the  other.  And  to  need  the  medicinal  art,  said 
I,  not  on  account  of  wounds,  or  some  incidental  epidemic 
complaint,  but  through  sloth,  and  such  diet  as  we  men- 
tioned, being  filled  with  rheums  and  wind,  like  lakes, 
and  obliging  the  skillful  sons  of  ^sculapius  to  invent 
new  names  for  diseases, — such  as  dropsies  and  catarrhs: 
do  not  you  think  this  abominable  ?  Truly,  replied  he, 
those  are  very  new  and  strange  names  of  diseases. 
Such,  said  I,  as  I  think,  existed  not  in  the  days  of 
.^sculapius:  and  I  guess  so  from  this,  that  when  Euryp- 
ylus  was  wounded  at  Troy,  and  was  getting  Pramnian 
wine  to  drink  with  much  flour  sprinkled  in  it,  and  cheese 
grated  (all  which  seemed  to  be  of  inflammatory  tendency), 
the  sons  of  ^sculapius  neither  blamed  the  woman  who 
presented  it,  nor  reproved  Patroclus,  for  presenting  the 
cure.  Surely  such  a  potion,  said  he,  is  absurdly  im- 
proper for  one  in  such  a  case.  Not  so,  said  I,  if  you  con- 
sider, that  the  descendants  of  -^sculapius,  as  they  tell  us, 
did  not,  before  the  time  of  Herodicus,  practice  the  method 
of  cure  nov/  in  use,  which  puts  the  patient  on  a  regimen ; 
whereas  Herodicus,  being  a  teacher  of  youth,  and  in 
weak  health  too,  confounded  gymnastics  and  medicine, 
and  made  himself  first  very  uncomfortable,  and  after- 
ward many  others  besides.  How  was  that  ?  said  he. 
By  procuring  himself  a  lingering  death,  said  I ;  for  while 
he  was  constantly  attending  to  his  disease,  which  was 
mortal,  he  was  not  able,  as  I  imagine,  to  cure  himself; 
though,  to  the  neglect  of  everything  else,  he  was  con- 
stantly using  medicines,  and  thus  passed  his  life,  always 
most  uneasy,  if  he  departed  in  the  least  from  his  usual 
diet ;  and  through  this  wisdom  of  his,  struggling  long  with 
death,  he  arrived  at  old  age.    A  mighty  reward,  said  he, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


he  reaped  for  his  cleverness!  Such  as  became  one,  said  I, 
who  was  unconscious  that  it  was  not  from  ignorance  or 
inexperience  of  this  method  of  cure,  that  ^sculapius  did 
not  discover  it  to  his  descendants,  but  simply  because 
he  was  aware,  that  in  all  well-regulated  states  there  every 
one  had  a  certain  work  enjoined  him,  necessary  to  be. 
done,  and  no  one  could  be  permitted  to  have  time  or  lei- 
sure to  get  sick  throughout  life,  or  busy  himself  with 
taking  medicine;  a  fact  that  we  amusingly  discover  in 
the  case  of  laboring  people,  but  do  not  see  it  in  that  of 
the  rich,  and  those  reputed  happy.    How  ?  said  he. 

Chap.  XV.  A  builder,  replied  I,  when  he  falls  sick, 
gets  from  the  physician  some  potion  for  throwing  up 
his  disease,  or  purging  it  downward,  or  else,  by  means 
of  caustic  or  amputation,  for  getting  freed  from  trouble; 
but  if  any  one  prescribe  him  a  system  of  regimen,  put- 
ting caps  on  his  head  and  so  on,  he  quickly  tells  him  that 
he  has  no  leisure  to  lie  sick,  and  it  does  not  suit  him 
to  live  in  that  manner,  attending  to  his  troubles,  and 
neglecting  his  duty;  and  so  bidding  the  physician  farewell, 
he  returns  to  his  ordinary  diet,  and,  should  he  recover, 
he  goes  on  managing  his  affairs,  but  should  his  body  be 
unable  to  bear  up  against  the  disease,  he  dies,  and  gets 
rid  of  his  troubles.  Such  an  one,  said  he,  ought  to  use 
the  art  of  medicine  just  in  this  manner.  Is  it  not,  said 
I,  because  he  has  a  certain  business, — and  which,  if  he 
does  not  do  it,  it  is  no  profit  for  him  to  live  ?  Plainly, 
replied  he.  But  the  rich  man,  as  we  say,  has  no  such 
work  allotted  him,  from  which,  when  compelled  to  re- 
frain, life  is  not  worth  the  having  ?  It  is  said  so  of 
him,  at  least.  You  do  not  mind,  said  I,  what  Phocy- 
lides  says, — that  one  ought,  throughout  life,  to  practice 
virtue.  I  think,  replied  he,  we  attended  to  that  for- 
merly. "We  shall  not  differ  on  this  point,  said  I.  But 
let  us  learn,  whether  excessive  attention  to  one's  disease 
is  to  be  the  business  of  the  rich,  and  life  is  not  worth 
keeping,  if  he  does  not  give  this  attention;  inasmuch, 
as  such  a  life  hinders  the  mind  from  attending  to  build- 
ing and  other  arts, — but,  as  respects  the  exhortation  of 
Phocylides,  it  is  no  hindrance.    Yes,  by  Zeus,  said  he, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO  117 

it  is,  and  that  in  the  greatest  degree,  when  this  vtnusual 
care  of  the  body  goes  beyond  gymnastics.  It  agrees 
neither  with  attention  to  private  economy,  or  military 
expeditions,  or  sedentary  magistracies  in  the  city.  But 
what  is  of  most  importance  is,  that  such  application  to 
health  ill  suits  any  sort  of  learning  and  inquiry  and 
solitary  study,  because  one  is  then  perpetually  dreading 
certain  pains  and  swimmings  of  the  head,  and  blaming 
philosophy  as  the  cause  thereof,  —  so  that,  where  there 
is  this  attention  to  health,  it  greatly  hinders  the  prac- 
tice of  virtue  and  improvement  therein,  as  it  makes  us 
always  imagine  that  we  are  ill  and  ailing.  Very  prob- 
ably, said  he.  And  shall  we  not  say,  that  ^sculapius 
too  tmderstood  these  things,  when  to  persons  in  health, 
and  such  as  used  a  wholesome  diet,  but  were  afflicted 
by  some  particular  disease,  to  these  and  such  kind  of 
constitution  he  prescribed  medicine,  resisting  their  ail- 
ments by  drugs  and  incisions,  but  still  ordering  them 
their  usual  diet,  that  the  public  might  not  be  injured; 
but  he  did  not  attempt,  either  by  low  or  nourishing 
diet,  to  cure  thoroughly  diseased  systems;  and  so  to 
afford  a  long  and  miserable  life  to  the  man  himself,  and 
his  descendants  too,  who  would  probably  be  of  the 
same  kind;  for  he  did  not  think  that  a  man  ought  to 
be  cured,  who  could  not  live  in  the  ordinary  course,  as 
in  that  case  he  would  be  of  no  service  either  to  himself 
or  the  state.  You  make  -iEsculapius,  a  politician,  observed 
he.  Plainly  so,  said  I ;  and  his  sons  may  evince  that  he 
was  so.  See  you  not  again,  that  at  Troy  they  proved  their 
bravery  in  war,  and,  as  I  say,  practiced  medicine  likewise  ? 
And  do  not  you  remember,  that  when  Menelaus  was 
Wounded  by  Pandarus, — 

.    .    .    they  sucked  the  wound,  then  spread  it  o'er 
With  drugs  of  balmy  power; 

but  as  for  what  he  wanted  to  eat  or  drink,  afterward, 
they  prescribed  for  him  no  more  than  for  Eurypylus, 
because  they  deemed  external  applications  sufficient  to 
heal  men,  who,  before  they  were  wounded,  had  been 
healthy  and  moderate  in  their  diet,  whatever  potion  they 
might  have  dinank  at  the  time,  but  conceived,  that  a 


ii8 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


diseased  constitution  and  an  intemperate  life  were  bene- 
ficial neither  to  the  men  themselves  nor  to  others,  and 
that  their  art  ought  not  to  be  employed  on,  nor  minister 
to,  them  even  were  they  richer  than  Midas.  How  vastly 
clever,  said  he,  you  are  making-  the  sons  of  ^sculapiust 

Chap.  XVI.  It  is  quite  right,  replied  I;  though  in 
opposition  to  us,  the  tragedy-writers,  and  Pindar  also,  say 
that  -^sculapius  was  the  son  of  Apollo,  and  was  induced 
by  gold  to  undertake  the  cure  of  a  rich  man,  already  in  a 
dying  state, — for  which  indeed  he  was  struck  with  a  thun- 
derbolt: but  we,  in  accordance  with  what  has  been 
before  said,  will  not  believe  them  as  to  both  these  state- 
ments, but  assert,  that  were  he  really  a  god's  son,  he 
would  not  have  been  given  to  filthy  lucre, —  or  else,  if  he 
were  given  to  filthy  lucre,  he  was  not  a  god's  son.  This 
at  least,  said  he,  is  quite  correct.  But  what  say  you  to 
this,  Socrates  ?  Must  we  not  provide  good  physicians  for 
the  state ;  and  must  not  these  probably  be  such  as  have 
been  conversant  with  great  numbers  both  of  healthy  and 
sick  people ;  and  judges  also,  who  have  had  experience  of 
all  varieties  of  dispositions  ?  I  am  speaking  particularly, 
said  I,  of  those  who  are  good:  but  [tell  me],  are  you 
aware  who  they  are,  that  I  deem  such  ?  [I  shall  be],  if 
you  will  tell  me,  replied  he.  I  will  try  to  do  so,  said  I ; 
but  you  are  inquiring  in  one  and  the  same  question  about 
two  different  things.  As  how  ?  said  he.  Physicians,  re- 
plied I,  woiild  become  extremely  skilled,  if,  from  child- 
hood upward,  they  would,  in  course  of  learning  their  art, 
gain  experience  from  a  large  number  of  bodies,  and  these 
too  of  a  very  sickly  character, —  especially  if  they  should 
be  themselves  afflicted  with  all  kinds  of  maladies,  and  not 
be  altogether  of  a  healthy  constitution, —  for  it  is  not  by 
the  body,  methinks,  that  they  cure  the  body  (else  their 
own  bodies  would  never  be  allowed  to  be  diseased,  or  be- 
come so),  but  they  cure  the  body  by  the  soul,  which,  while 
in  a  diseased  state,  or  becoming  so,  is  incapable  of  prop- 
erly performing  any  cure  whatever.  Right,  said  he.  But 
as  for  the  judge,  friend,  said  I,  he  governs  the  soul  by  the 
soul ;  and  if  it  has  been  bred  up  from  childhood  with  de- 
praved souls,  has  constantly  associated  with  them,  and 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


119 


has  itself  committed  all  sorts  of  crime,  it  cannot  so  far 
emancipate  itself,  as  of  itself  to  judge  correctly  about 
others'  ill  deeds,  just  as  happens  with  respect  to  bodily 
ailments:  no,  it  must  even  in  youth  be  unacquainted 
with  and  unpolluted  by  bad  habits,  if  it  would  be  fair  and 
honorable  itself  and  judge  correctly  of  what  is  just. 
Hence,  therefore,  the  virtuous,  even  in  youth,  appear  sim- 
ple, and  easily  deceived  by  the  unjust,  because  they  have 
within  them,  forsooth,  no  dispositions  corresponding  in 
sentiment  with  those  of  the  wicked.  Aye,  indeed,  said 
he,  this  very  often  happens  to  them.  For  this  reason,  said 
I,  the  good  judge  must  not  be  a  youth,  but  old, — one  who 
has  been  late  in  learning  the  nature  of  wickedness,  which 
he  apprehends  not  as  a  peculiar  quality  resident  in  his 
own  soul,  but  from  having,  as  a  foreign  one,  long  studied 
it  in  the  souls  of  others,  and  from  having  ascertained  the 
nature  of  its  evil  by  positive  science,  rather  than  personal 
experience.  Such  an  one  as  this,  said  he,  is  likely  to  be 
a  very  noble  judge.  And  a  good  one  too,  said  I;  the 
very  thing  you  required :  for  the  man  with  a  good  soul  is 
good ;  while  on  the  other  hand,  the  clever,  slyly  suspicious 
man, — he,  namely,  who  has  himself  committed  much  sin, 
and  is  deemed  subtle  and  wise  when  in  the  society  of  his 
equals,  has  the  repute  of  being  a  clever,  wary  kind  of  per- 
son, because  he  has  constantly  in  his  eye  those  models 
that  reside  within  himself;  but  whenever  he  approaches 
the  good,  who  are  his  seniors,  he  appears  mightily  inferior, 
unseasonably  suspicious,  and  wholly  ignorant  of  moral  in- 
tegrity, having  within  him  no  models  of  any  such  quality; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  as  he  has  more  frequent  inter- 
course with  the  wicked  than  with  the  wise,  he  appears, 
both  to  himself  and  others,  unusually  wise  rather  than 
ignorant.    Quite  true,  said  he. 

Chap.  XVII.  We  must  not  then,  said  I,  in  such  a 
man  as  this,  look  for  a  wise  and  good  judge,  but  in  the 
former  one.  Vice,  indeed,  can  never  know  both  itself 
and  virtue;  but  virtue,  where  the  moral  temper  is  grad- 
ually instructed,  will  attain  to  a  scientific  knowledge  both 
of  itself  and  depravity  also:  this  man,  then,  and  not 
the  wicked  one,  is,  as  I  think,  wise.    I,  too,  said  he,  am 


1 20 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


of  the  same  opinion.  You  will  establish,  then,  in  your 
state  a  science  of  medicine  such  as  we  have  described, 
and  along  with  it  a  corresponding  system  of  judicature, 
both  of  which  together  may  carefully  provide  for  such 
of  your  citizens  as  are  nati;rally  well  disposed  both  in 
body  and  in  mind;  while,  as  regards  the  opposite,  such  as 
are  diseased  in  their  bodies,  they  should  let  die;  but  as 
for  those  who  are  thoroughly  evil  and  incurable  as  to  the 
soul,  these  they  are  themselves  to  put  to  death  ?  It 
seems,  at  any  rate,  the  best,  said  he,  that  can  happen, 
both  for  those  who  are  thus  afflicted  and  for  the  state 
itself.  As  respects  your  youths,  however,  it  is  quite 
plain,  said  I,  that  they  will  be  cautious  in  calling  in  the 
aid  of  judicial  science,  so  long  as  they  are  employed  on 
that  simple  music,  which,  we  said,  generates  temperance. 
Of  course,  said  he.  Will  not  then,  the  musician  who 
pursues  gymnastics,  on  the  very  same  principles  as  his 
own  art,  prefer  doing  so  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  want 
medicine  except  when  absolutely  necessary  ?  I  think  so. 
His  exercises  too,  and  his  labors,  he  will  perform  with 
reference  more  to  the  spirited  portion  of  his  nature  thus 
stirred  into  action,  than  to  mere  physical  strength, —  dif- 
ferently, indeed,  from  all  other  wrestlers,  who  take  food 
and  undergo  toil  with  a  view  to  the  promotion  of  bodily 
strength  ?  Most  true,  said  he.  In  that  case,  said  I, 
Glaucon,  they  who  propose  to  teach  music  and  gymnas- 
tics, propose  them,  not  for  what  some  imagine,  namely, 
to  cure  the  body  by  the  one,  and  the  soul  by  the  other. 
If  not,  what  is  their  motive  ?  asked  he.  They  seem  to 
propose  them  both,  said  I,  chiefly  on  the  soul's  account. 
As  how  ?  Perceive  you  not,  said  I,  how  those  persons  have 
regulated  their  intellect  itself,  who  have  all  their  life  been 
conversant  with  gymnastics,  yet  never  studied  music, — 
or  how  those  are  affected  who  have  lived  in  a  manner 
quite  the  re-  erse  of  this  ?  What  are  you  speaking  about  ? 
said  he.  Of  savageness  and  fierceness,  said  I,  and  again 
of  effeminacy  and  mildness.  Yes,  I  understand,  said  he; 
that  is,  persons  who  apply  themselves  to  unmixed 
gymnastics  become  more  savage  than  they  ought;  and 
those  again  [who  attend]  to  music  alone,  are  softer  than 
becomes  them.    And  moreover,  said  I,  this  very  savage- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


121 


ness  imparts  probably  a  certain  spirit  to  the  disposition, 
and,  if  rightly  disciplined,  will  become  fortitude;  but 
when  stretched  too  far,  it  will  probably  become  inde- 
cently fierce  and  troublesome.  So  I  think,  said  he.  But 
what;  will  not  the  philosophic  nature  partake  of  the 
mild  also;  and  when  this  disposition  is  carried  to  excess, 
may  it  not  prove  softer  than  it  ought,  and  if  rightly  dis- 
ciplined, both  mild  and  modest  ?  Just  so.  We  say  also,  that 
our  guardians  ought  naturally  to  be  possessed  of  both. 
They  ought.  Ought  they  not,  then,  to  be  made  to  suit  one 
another?  Of  course.  And  the  soul  of  the  person  thus  suited 
is  temperate  and  brave  ?  Certainly.  But  the  soul  of  a  per- 
son not  so  suited  is  cowardly  and  savage  ?    Especially  so. 

Chap.  XVIII.  As  a  matter  of  course,  then,  when  one 
consents  to  be  soothed  with  the  charms  of  music,  and  to 
have  poured  into  his  soul  through  his  ears  (as  through  a 
pipe)  those  lately  called  the  sweet,  effeminate,  and  dole- 
ful harmonies,  and  spends  the  whole  of  his  life  humming 
ditties  and  charmed  with  melody,  —  such  an  one,  first  of 
all, —  should  he  possess  any  spirit, —  hardens  it  like  iron, 
and  makes  it  serviceable,  instead  of  useless  and  harsh. 
When,  however,  he  positively  declines  desisting,  and  be- 
comes the  victim  of  a  kind  of  fascination, —  after  this,  he 
is  melted  and  dissolved,  till  his  spirit  is  quite  spent  and 
the  nerves  are,  as  it  were,  cut  out  from  his  soul,  making 
him  an  effeminate  warrior.  Quite  so,  indeed,  said  he. 
Aye, —  said  I;  if  he  had  originally  possessed  a  nature 
devoid  of  spirit,  he  would  quickly  have  done  thus;  but, 
if  [he  possesses]  one  of  high  spirit,  it  makes  the  mind 
weak,  and  causes  it  to  be  quickly  overbalanced,  speedily 
either  excited  and  overcome ;  and  hence  men  become  out- 
rageous and  ill-tempered,  rather  than  high-spirited.  Quite 
so,  indeed.  But  what;  if  a  man  labor  much  in  gym- 
nastics and  live  on  extremely  good  diet,  but  pay  no 
attention  to  music  and  philosophy;  is  he  not  first  of  all, 
from  having  his  body  in  good  condition,  abundantly  filled 
with  prudence  and  spirit,  and  does  he  not  become  braver 
than  he  was  before?  Surely.  But  what;  supposing  he 
does  nothing  else,  and  has  no  commerce  with  the  Muses, 
not  even  if  he  had  any  love  of  learning  in  his  soul,  as 


122 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


neither  having  a  taste  for  investigation,  nor  sharing  in 
any  inquiry  or  reasoning,  or  other  musical  pursuit  what- 
ever, does  it  not  become  feeble,  deaf,  and  blind,  as  being 
neither  awakened,  nor  nurtured,  nor  his  perceptions  puri- 
fied? Just  so.  Such  an  one  then  becomes,  I  suppose,  a 
hater  of  argument,  and  indisposed  to  music, —  one  who 
cannot  at  all  be  reasoned  into  anything,  but  conducts  him- 
self in  all  matters  with  violence  and  ferocity,  like  a  wild 
beast;  and  thus  he  lives  in  ignorance  and  barbarity  out 
of  measure,  and  unpolished?  Quite  so,  said  he.  Corre- 
sponding then  to  these  two  tempers,  it  seems,  I  would  say, 
that  some  deity  has  furnished  men  with  two  arts, — 
music  and  gymnastics, — relating  respectively  to  the  high- 
spirited  and  the  philosophic  nature, — not  indeed,  for  the  soul 
and  body,  otherwise  than  as  a  by-work  and  accessory, 
but  with  a  view  to  those  two  tempers,  that  they  may  be 
mutually  suitable  to  each  other  by  being  tightened  and 
loosened  at  pleasure.  Aye, —  it  seems  so.  Whoever  then 
can  most  cleverly  mingle  gymnastics  with  music,  and 
introduce  them  in  justest  measure  into  the  soul,  this  per- 
son we  may  most  properly  call  completely  musical,  and 
most  harmoniously  disposed, —  far  more,  indeed,  than  the 
man  who  puts  in  tune  the  strings  of  an  instrument. 
Very  likely,  Socrates,  said  he.  Shall  we  not  then,  al- 
ways need,  Glaucon,  such  a  president  in  our  city,  if  its 
government  is  to  be  kept  entire  ?  It  will  indeed  be  quite 
needful,  as  far  at  least  as  we  can. 

Chap.  XIX.  The  above  then  are  probably  the  true 
models  both  of  education  and  discipline:  for  why  should 
one  go  through  the  dances,  the  hunts  of  wild  beasts  with 
dogs  and  nets,  the  wrestlings  and  the  horse-races  expedient 
for  such  persons  ?  for  it  is  almost  manifest  that  they 
follow  as  a  matter  of  course,  nor  are  they  at  all  hard  to 
discover.  Well,  said  he,  perhaps  they  are  not  difficult. 
Granted,  said  I:  but  after  this,  what  had  we  next  to 
determine  ?  Is  it  not,  which  of  these  shall  govern,  and 
be  governed  ?  What  else  ?  Is  it  not  plain  that  the  gov- 
ernors should  be  the  elder,  and  the  governed  the  younger  ? 
Plain.  And  also,  that  the  best  of  them  [should  govern]  ? 
Aye,— that  too.    And  the  best  husbandmen;  are  they  not 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


123 


the  cleverest  in  tillage  ?  Yes.  Now,  if  it  be  fit  that  our 
guardians  be  the  best,  will  they  not  be  most  strictly 
watchful  over  the  city  ?  Yes.  With  this  view  should  we 
not  make  them  prudent,  and  able,  and  careful  also  of  the 
city  ?  It  is  the  fact.  At  any  rate  a  man  would  be  most 
careful  of  what  he  happens  to  love  ?  Necessarily  so.  And 
this  at  least  one  must  especially  love, —  namely,  what  he 
deems  to  have  a  community  of  interest  with  himself, 
especially  when  he  conceives,  that  in  another's  good  for- 
tune he  may  find  good  fortune  too, — but  if  otherwise,  the 
reverse  ?  Just  so,  said  he.  We  must  choose  then,  from 
the  rest  of  the  guardians  such  men,  as  on  inquiry  most 
of  all  seem  to  perform  with  all  cheerfulness  through  an 
entire  life  whatever  they  deem  expedient  for  the  state, — 
while,  as  to  the  inexpedient,  they  will  not  do  it  by  any 
means  at  all.  These  are  jtist  the  proper  persons,  said  he. 
I  really  think  that  they  ought  to  be  observed  at  all  stages 
of  life,  whether  they  act  consistently  with  this  opinion, 
without  either  being  reduced  or  forcibly  compelled  in- 
considerately to  throw  up  the  opinion,  of  its  being 
a  duty  to  do  what  is  best  for  the  state.  What  throw- 
ing up  do  you  mean  ?  said  he.  I  will  tell  you,  said 
I.  Opinion  seems  to  me  to  come  from  the  intellect  either 
voluntarily  or  involuntarily, — voluntarily  indeed  as  regards 
false  opinion  [when  it  comes]  from  him  who  unlearns  it, — 
but  involuntarily,  as  regards  every  true  one.  The  case 
of  the  voluntary  one,  replied  he,  I  understand;  but  that 
of  the  involuntary  I  want  to  learn.  What;  are  not  even 
you  of  opinion,  said  I,  that  men  are  deprived  of  good 
things  involuntarily,  but  of  evil  things  voluntarily  ?  Is 
being  deceived  respecting  the  truth  no  evil,  and  the  attain- 
ment of  truth  no  good  ?  and  think  you  not,  that  to  form 
opinions  respecting  things  as  they  really  exist  is  attaining 
the  truth  ?  Aye,  said  he,  you  speak  correctly :  they  do 
indeed  seem  to  me  to  be  deprived  unwillingly  of  true 
opinion.  Are  they  then  thus  affected  by  being  robbed, 
or  enchanted,  or  forced  ?  Now,  at  any  rate,  said  he,  I 
do  not  understand  you.  I  am  probably  expressing  myself, 
said  I,  just  like  the  tragedians :  *  for,  I  say,  that  those 

*  Plato  here  alludes  to  the  obscure  style  sometimes  adopted  by 
them  to  mystify  the  hearers. 


124 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


[have  their  opinions]  stolen,  who  change  them  through 
persuasion,  or  else  forget  them;  because,  in  the  one  case, 
they  are  imperceptibly  removed  by  time,  and  in  the  other 
by  reasoning:  now  perhaps  you  understand  ?  Yes.  And 
those,  I  say,  are  forced  out  of  their  opinions,  whom  grief 
or  agony  obliges  to  change  them  ?  This  too,  said  he,  I 
understand,  and  you  are  right  in  saying  so.  Those,  more- 
over, methinks,  you  will  say,  are  enchanted  out  of  their 
opinions,  who  change  them,  either  bewitched  by  pleasure 
or  appalled  by  fear.  For  whatever  deceives,  said  he,  seems 
to  exercise  a  kind  of  magical  enchantment. 

Chap.  XX.  We  must  now  then  inquire, — as  I  was  say- 
ing before, —  who  are  the  best  guardians  of  their  own 
particular  maxim,  that  they  should  do  whatever  they  deem 
to  be  best  for  the  state;  and  they  should  observe  them 
too  quite  from  childhood,  setting  before  them  such  work, 
as  may  lead  them  most  readily  to  forget  such  a  matter  and 
delude  themselves ;  and  we  should  choose  one  who  is  mind- 
ful and  hard  to  be  deluded,  while  one  who  is  not  so  we 
should  reject:  is  that  it?  Yes.  And  we  must  appoint 
them  labors  and  pains  and  contests,  in  which  we  must 
observe  these  very  same  things.  Right,  said  he.  Should 
we  not,  also,  said  I,  appoint  a  third  contest,  that  of  the 
mountebank  kind;  and  look  to  see,  just  as  persons  lead 
young  colts  amidst  noises  and  tumults,  to  find  out 
whether  they  are  frightened  ?  and  thus,  while  yet 
young,  they  must  be  led  into  various  fearful  situations, 
and  again  be  thrown  back  into  pleasures,  trying  them 
far  more  than  gold  in  the  fire,  whether  a  person  appears 
hard  to  be  beguiled  by  mountebank  tricks,  and  is  of 
composed  demeanor  amidst  all,  because  he  is  a  good 
guardian  of  himself,  and  of  that  music  in  which  he  had 
been  instructed,  proving  himself  in  all  these  respects  to 
be  in  just  rhythm  and  harmony.  Being  of  such  charac- 
ter, he  would  truly  be  most  useful  both  to  himself  and 
the  state.  And  he  who  in  childhood,  youth,  and  man- 
hood, has  been  thus  tried,  and  come  out  pure,  may  be 
appointed  governor  and  guardian  of  the  state ;  honors  are 
to  be  paid  him  while  he  lives,  and  at  his  death  he  should 
receive  the  highest  rewards  of  public  burial  and  other 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


12$ 


memorials:  while  one  that  is  not  such  wc  must  reject. 
Somewhat  like  this,  mcthinks,  Glaucon,  said  I, —  for  we 
have  only  drawn  it  in  outline,  not  defined  it  accurately, 
—  sho;ild  be  the  mode  of  choosing  and  establishing  our 
governors  and  guardians.  I  think  so  too,  rejoined  he. 
Is  it  not  then  really  most  correct  to  call  these  the  perfect 
guardians,  both  as  to  what  relates  to  enemies  abroad  and 
friends  at  home,  for  taking  from  one  party  the  will,  and 
from  the  other  the  power  of  doing  mischief,  while  the 
youth  (whom  we  just  now  called  gi:ardians)  will  be  allies 
and  auxiliaries  to  the  decrees  of  the  governors  ?  Yes,  I 
think  so,  replied  he. 


Chap.  XXI.  What  then,  said  I,  should  be  our  plan, 
when  we  are  falsifying  by  one  of  the  well-intentioned 
and  necessary  untruths,  such  as  we  just  mentioned,  with 
a  view  to  persuade  chiefly  the  governors  themselves; 
but,  if  not  these,  the  rest  of  the  state  ?  What  kind  of 
untruth  do  you  mean  ?  Nothing  new,  said  I,  but  some- 
thing like  the  Phosnician  fable,*  which  has  often  taken 
place  heretofore,  as  the  poets  say  and  have  persuaded 
us,  but  which  has  not  happened  in  our  times,  nor  do  I 
know  whether  it  is  likely  to  happen, —  to  persuade  one 
of  which  indeed  requires  great  suasive  power.  You  seem 
to  me,  said  he,  to  hesitate  to  tell  it!  I  shall  appear  to 
3^ou,  said  I,  to  hesitate  with  very  good  reason,  whenever 
I  shall  tell  it.  Speak,  said  he,  and  be  not  afraid.  I  will 
tell  you  then,  though  I  know  not  with  what  courage,  or 
what  words  I  am  to  use  in  telling  you;  and  I  will  at- 
tempt, first  of  all  to  persuade  the  governors  themselves, 
and  the  soldiers,  and  then  also  the  rest  of  the  state,  that, 
whatever  training  or  education  we  gave  them,  all  these 
particulars  seemed  to  effect  a.nd  befall  them  like  dreams, 
while  really  they  were  in  course  of  formation  and  de- 
velopment beneath  the  earth,  where  are  fabricated  not 
only  themselves,  but  also  their  armor  and  other  equip- 
ments:  but  after  they  were   completely  fashioned,  the 

*  The  scholiast  tells  us  that  the  Phcenician  fable  had  reference 
to  the  myths  related  about  the  dragon  and  the  sown  men  that 
arose  at  the  bidding  of  Cadmus,  the  son  of  Agenor,  and  grandson 
of  Poseidon  and  Libva.  whose  native  country  was  Phoenicia. 


ia6 


THE  REPUBLIC  OP  PLATO 


earth,  who  is  their  mother,  brought  them  forth;  and  now 
they  ought  to  consult  the  interests  of  the  country  in 
which  they  reside  as  for  a  mother  and  nurse,  and  to  de- 
fend her  in  case  of  invasion,  and  to  look  upon  the  rest 
of  the  citizens  as  their  brethren,  and  sprung  from  the 
same  soil.  It  is  not  without  reason,  said  he,  that  some- 
time back,  you  were  ashamed  to  tell  this  falsehood. 
Quite  so,  said  I:  but  still  hear  the  remainder  of  the 
fable.  All  of  you  in  the  state  truly  are  brethren  (as  we 
shall  tell  them  by  way  of  fable) ;  but  the  god,  in  form- 
ing you,  mixed  gold  in  the  formation  of  such  of  you  as 
are  able  to  govern;  on  which  account  they  are  the 
most  honorable;  in  such  as  are  auxiliaries,  silver;  and  in 
the  husbandmen  and  other  craftsmen,  iron  and  brass. 
Since  then  you  are  all  of  the  same  kindred,  you  would 
for  the  most  part  beget  children  resembling  yourselves; 
and  sometimes  perhaps  silver  will  be  generated  out  of 
gold,  and  out  of  silver  there  might  be  a  golden  offspring; 
and  thus  in  all  other  ways  [are  they  generated]  out  of 
one  another.  Governors  then,  first  and  chieiiy,  the  god 
charges,  that  over  nothing  are  they  to  be  such  good  guard- 
ians, or  to  keep  such  vigilant  watch,  as  over  their  children ; 
[to  know]  with  which  of  these  principles  their  souls  are 
imbued;  and  should  their  descendants  be  of  brass  or 
iron,  they  will  show  them  no  indulgence  whatever,  but 
assigning  them  honor  just  proportioned  to  their  natural 
temper,  will  thrust  them  down  to  the  rank  of  craftsmen 
or  husbandmen.  And  if  again  any  from  among  these 
latter  shall  exhibit  a  golden  or  silver  sort  of  nature,  they 
are  to  pay  them  honor  and  elevate  them ;  some  to  the 
guardianship,  others  to  the  rank  of  auxiliaries, — the 
oracle  having  declared  that  the  state  shall  perish  when- 
ever iron  or  brass  shall  hold  its  guardianship.  With 
respect  to  this  fable  then,  have  you  any  means  of  per- 
suading them  of  its  truth  ?  None,  said  he,  of  persuading 
these  men  themselves;  but  I  have  as  respects  their  sons 
and  posterity,  and  the  rest  of  mankind  afterward.  Even 
this,  said  I,  would  act  well  in  making  them  more  anxious 
about  the  state's  welfare,  and  for  one  another;  for  I 
almost  understand  what  you  mean;  and  this  truly  will 
lead  the  same  way  as  the  oracle. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


127 


Chap.  XXII.  As  for  ourselves,  having-  armed  these 
earthborn  sons,  let  us  lead  them  forward  under  the  con- 
duct of  their  leaders;  and  when  they  are  come  into  the 
city,  let  them  consider  where  they  may  best  pitch  their 
camp,  so  as  best  to  keep  in  order  those  within  it,  should 
any  one  be  unwilling  to  obey  the  laws ;  and  likewise  how 
they  may  defend  it  against  those  without,  should  any 
enemy  come,  like  a  wolf,  on  the  fold.  And  when  they 
have  pitched  their  camp,  and  sacrificed  to  the  proper 
divinities,  let  them  erect  their  tents:  is  that  the  way? 
Just  so,  said  he.  They  should  be  such  then  as  may  suf- 
fice to  defend  them,  both  from  winter's  cold  and  summer's 
heat?  Of  course;  for  I  think,  said  he,  you  are  alluding 
to  houses.  Yes  said  I,  those  of  the  military  class,  not 
those  of  the  money-makers.  How,  replied  he,  do  you 
say  that  the  latter  differs  from  the  former  ?  I  will  try  to 
tell  you,  said  I;  for,  of  all  things,  it  is  the  most  dread- 
ful, and  disgraceful  to  shepherds,  to  breed,  as  guardians 
of  the  flocks,  such  kind  of  dogs,  and  in  such  a  manner,  as 
that,  either  through  want  of  discipline,  or  hunger,  or 
some  other  ill  habit,  the  dogs  should  themselves  attempt 
to  hurt  the  sheep,  and  so  resemble  wolves  rather  than 
dogs.  It  is  dreadful,  of  course,  said  he.  Must  we  not 
then  take  all  care,  lest  our  allies  act  thus  toward  our 
citizens,  as  being  the  more  powerful,  and,  instead  of  gen- 
erous allies,  resemble  savage  masters  ?  We  must  take 
care,  said  he.  Would  they  not  be  prepared  to  exercise 
the  greatest  caution,  if  they  were  really  well  educated  ? 
They  are  so,  moreover,  replied  he.  I  then,  for  my  part, 
observed:  that  you  cannot  properly  insist  on,  friend 
Glaucon;  but  what  we  were  just  now  saying  is  proper; 
namely,  that  they  should  have  a  good  education,  what- 
ever its  nature,  if  they  are  to  possess  what  is  most 
important  toward  rendering  them  mild,  both  among 
themselves  and  toward  those  under  their  guardianship. 
Right,  said  he.  In  addition  then  to  this  training,  any 
intelligent  person  would  say,  that  their  houses  and  all 
other  effects  ought  to  be  so  contrived,  as  neither  to  impede 
their  guardians  in  becoming  the  very  best  possible,  nor 
to  excite  them  to  the  injury  of  the  other  citizens.  Aye, 
and  he  will  say  true.    If  then  they  intend  to  be  such, 


1^8 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


consider,  said  I,  whether  they  ought  to  live  and  arrange 
their  household  in  some  such  manner,  as  follows:  First, 
let  none  possess  any  private  property  unless  it  be  abso- 
lutely necessary:  next,  let  none  have  any  dwelling  or 
storehouse,  into  which  any  one  that  pleases  may  not 
enter:  then,  as  for  necessaries,  let  them  be  such  as  both 
temperate  and  brave  champions  in  war  may  require; 
making  for  themselves  this  law,  not  to  receive  such  a 
reward  of  their  guardianship  from  the  other  citizens,  as 
to  have  either  surplus  or  deficiency  at  the  year's  end. 
Let  them  also  frequent  public  meals,  as  in  camps,  and 
live  in  common;  and  we  must  tell  them,  that  they  have 
ever  in  their  souls  from  the  gods  a  divine  gold  and  sil- 
ver, and  therefore  have  no  need  of  that  which  is  human ; 
and  that  it  were  profane  to  pollute  the  possession  of  the 
divine  ore,  by  mixing  it  with  the  alloy  of  the  mortal 
metal;  because  the  money  of  the  vulgar  has  produced 
many  impious  deeds,  while  that  which  they  have  is  pure ; 
and  that  of  all  men  in  the  city,  they  alone  should  not 
be  allowed  to  handle  or  touch  gold  or  silver,  or  harbor 
it  under  their  roof,  or  carry  it  about,  nor  to  drink  out  of 
silver  or  gold.  By  such  means  they  will  be  likely  to 
preserve  both  themselves  and  the  state ;  but  whenever 
they  shall  possess  private  lands  and  houses,  and  money, 
they  will  become  stewards  and  farmers  instead  of  guar- 
dians, and  hateful  masters  instead  of  allies  to  the  other 
citizens;  in  hating  indeed,  and  being  hated,  in  plotting, 
and  being  plotted  against,  they  will  pass  the  whole  of 
their  life ;  much  more  frequently  and  more  really  terrified 
by  the  enemies  from  within  than  by  those  from  without, 
as  they  and  the  rest  of  the  state  are  hastening  very 
near  to  destruction.  For  all  these  reasons,  said  I,  we 
must  say,  that  our  guardians  should  be  thus  regulated, 
both  as  to  their  houses  and  all  other  matters.  And  let 
us  consider  these  things  as  law ;  shall  we  not  ?  By  all 
means,  said  Glaucon. 


BOOK  IV. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  FOURTH  Book,  after  defining  the  true  position  and  functions  of 
the  (j}vXa^  and  the  arrangement  of  a  model  state,  —  which  he  fur- 
ther conceives  to  comprise,  as  essentials,  wisdom,  temperance,  forti- 
tude, and  justice,  the  necessary  union  and  coherence  of  which  he 
demonstrates  by  analogy  with  the  numerous  mental  faculties,  which, 
like  the  members  of  a  state,  exist  by  mutual  connection  and  depend- 
ence. This  concord  of  faculties  is  at  the  bottom  of  Plato's  notion 
of  a  state;  and  this  constitutes  justice,  the  benefits  of  which  are 
negatively  proved  by  the  exposure  of  injustice.  This  justice,  how- 
ever, he  proves  to  have  numerous  ramifications,  just  in  the  same 
way  as  both  himself  and  Aristotle  conceive  that  under  the  term 
politics  is  included  everything  that  concerns  civil  administration 
when  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  people  themselves,  both  generically 
and  in  its  specific  departments. 

Chapter  I.  Adimantus  hereupon  rejoining  said:  What 
answer  will  you  make,  Socrates,  if  one  were  to  say  that 
you  do  not  make  these  men  very  happy, — and  that  owing 
to  themselves,  whose  property  the  state  really  is, — -yet  they 
enjoy  no  advantage  in  the  state,  such  as  others  do  who 
possess  lands,  build  beautiful  and  large  houses,  purchase 
suitable  furniture,  offer  sacrifices  to  the  gods  at  their  own 
expense,  entertain  strangers,  and,  as  you  were  just  now 
saying,  possess  gold  and  silver,  and  everything  generally 
supposed  to  contribute  toward  making  men  happy.  Aye, 
doubtless,  he  may  say,  they  seem,  like  hired  auxiliaries, 
to  be  settled  in  the  state  for  no  other  purpose  than  keep- 
iiig  guard.  Yes,  said  I;  and  that  too  only  for  their 
maintenance,  without  receiving,  like  the  rest,  pay  as  well 
as  rations ;  so  that  they  are  not  to  be  allowed  so  much  as  to 
travel  abroad  privately,  though  they  wish  it,  nor  bestow 
money  on  mistresses,  nor  spend  it  in  such  other  ways  as 
those  do  who  are  reputed  to  be  happy.  These  and  many 
such  like  things  you  leave  oiit  of  the  accusation.  Well, 
9  (129) 


130 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


let  these  charges  too,  said  he,  be  made  against  them. 
What  answer  then,  are  we  to  make,  you  ask  ?  I  do.  While 
traveling  on  the  same  road,  we  shall  find,  methinks,  what 
is  to  be  said:  for  we  shall  state,  that  it  would  be  nothing 
strange,  were  these  men,  under  these  circumstances,  to 
be  the  happiest  possible :  yet  it  was  not  with  an  eye  to 
this,  that  we  are  establishing  our  state, — to  have  any  one 
tribe  in  it  remarkably  happy,  but  that  the  whole  state 
might  be  so  to  the  fullest  extent;  for  we  judged,  that  in 
such  an  one  more  particularly  we  should  meet  with  jus- 
tice, and  again  in  that  the  worst  established  injustice;  and 
that,  on  thoroughly  examining  these,  we  might  determine 
what  we  have  long  been  seeking.  Now,  then,  as  we 
suppose,  we  are  forming  a  happy  state,  not  by  selection, 
making  some  few  only  so  in  it,  but  the  whole :  and  we 
will  next  consider  one  its  reverse.  Just  as  if,  when  we 
were  painting  human  figures,  a  person  should  come  and 
blame  us,  saying,  that  we  do  not  place  the  most  beautiful 
colors  on  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  the  creature, 
■ — inasmuch  as  the  eyes,  the  most  beautiful  part,  were  not 
painted  with  purple,  but  black;  we  should  seem  perhaps 
to  make  a  sufficient  answer  to  him,  by  saying.  Clever 
fellow,  do  not  suppose  that  we  ought  to  paint  the  eyes 
so  beautifully,  as  that  they  should  not  appear  to  be  eyes, 
and  so  with  the  other  parts;  but  consider,  rather, 
whether,  in  giving  each  particular  part  its  due,  we  make 
the  whole  beautiful.  And  especially  now,  do  not  oblige 
us  to  confer  such  happiness  on  our  guardians  as  shall 
make  them  anything  rather  than  guardians:  for  we  know 
too,  how  to  dress  out  the  husbandmen  in  fine  robes  and 
gird  them  with  gold,  and  bid  them  till  the  ground  with  a 
view  to  pleasure  only, — and  in  like  manner,  those  who 
make  earthenware,  to  lie  at  their  ease  by  the  fire,  drinking 
and  feasting,  and  placing  the  wheel  near  them  to  work 
just  so  much  as  they  like ;  and  so  also  how  to  confer 
happiness  on  every  one  in  such  a  manner  as  to  render 
the  whole  state  happy.  But  do  not  advise  us  in  this  way; 
because,  if  we  obey  you,  neither  will  the  husbandman  be 
really  a  husbandman,  nor  the  potter  a  potter;  nor  will 
any  one  else  be  really  of  any  of  those  professions  of  which 
the  state  is  composed.    As  to  all  the  rest,  it  is  of  less 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


consequence :  for,  when  shoemakers  become  bad  and 
corrupt,  and  profess  to  be  shoemakers  when  they  are  not 
so,  no  great  mischief  befalls  the  state ;  but  when  guardians 
of  the  laws  and  of  the  state  arc  not  so  really,  but  only  in 
appearance,  you  see  how  entirely  they  destroy  the  whole 
state,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  they  alone  have  the 
opportunity  of  managing  it  well  and  effecting  its  happi- 
ness. If  then  we  would  appoint  men  who  shall  be  really 
guardians  of  the  city,  [let  us  choose]  those  who  will  be 
least  hurtful  to  it;  but  he  who  says  that  they  should  be 
a  kind  of  farmers,  and  as  in  a  festival  meeting,  not  in  a 
state,  jolly  entertainers,  must  speak  of  something  else 
rather  than  a  city.  We  must  consider,  then,  whether  we 
establish  guardians  with  this  view,  that  they  may  enjoy 
the  greatest  happiness, —  or,  looking  to  the  entire  state, 
we  regard  whether  it  is  to  be  found  therein;  and  we 
must  compel  these  allies  and  guardians  to  do  this,  and 
persuade  them  to  become  the  best  performers  of  their 
own  particular  work,  and  act  also  toward  all  others  in 
the  same  manner ;  and  thus,  as  the  whole  city  becomes  pros- 
perous, and  well  constituted,  we  must  permit  its  several 
classes  to  share  in  that  degree  of  happiness  which  their 
nature  admits. 

Chap.  II.  I  think  you  say  well,  said  he.  Well,  then, 
said  I,  what  is  near  akin  to  this,  shall  I  be  thought  to  say 
rightly.  In  what  particularly  ?  With  respect  to  all  other 
artificers  again,  consider  whether  these  things  corrupt 
them,  so  as  to  make  them  bad  workmen.  To  what  do 
you  allude  ?  Riches,  said  I,  and  poverty.  As  how  ? 
Thus:  Would  the  potter,  think  you,  after  he  has  become 
rich,  have  any  desire  still  to  mind  his  art  ?  By  no  means, 
said  he.  But  will  he  not  become  more  idle  and  care- 
less than  he  was  before  ?  Much  more  so.  Will  he  not 
then  become  a  worse  potter  ?  This  too,  much  more  so, 
said  he.  And,  moreover,  being  unable  through  poverty 
to  supply  himself  with  tools,  or  other  requisites  of  his 
art,  his  workmanship  will  be  more  imperfectly  executed, 
and  his  sons,  or  others  whom  he  instructs,  will  be  inferior 
artists.  Of  course  they  will.  Owing  to  both  these  causes, 
then  [namely],  poverty  and  riches,  the  workmanship  in 


132  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 

the  arts  becomes  inferior,  and  [the  artists]  themselves 
inferior  too.  It  appears  so.  We  have  then,  it  seems, 
found  out  other  things  for  our  guardians,  against  which 
they  must  by  all  means  watch,  that  they  may  not  steal  into 
the  state  without  their  knowledge.  Of  what  sort  are 
these  ?  Riches,  said  I,  and  poverty;  the  one  engender- 
ing luxury,  idleness,  and  a  love  of  innovation ;  the  other 
illiberality  and  mischief,  as  well  as  a  love  of  innovation. 
Quite  so,  said  he.  But,  Socrates,  pray  consider  this; 
how  is  our  state  to  have  the  power  of  engaging  in  war, 
when  she  is  possessed  of  no  money,  especially  if  com- 
pelled to  wage  war  against  a  great  and  opulent  one  ?  It 
is  plain,  said  I,  that  to  fight  against  one  is  somewhat  dif- 
ficult ;  but  against  two  such  is  more  easy.  How  say  you  ? 
replied  he.  First  of  all,  now,  said  I,  if  there  is  any  occa- 
sion for  fighting,  will  they  not,  being  practiced  warriors, 
fight  against  rich  men  ?  Yes,  surely,  said  he.  What  then, 
said  I,  Adimantus,  would  not  a  single  boxer,  trained  as 
highly  as  possible  to  this  exercise,  seem  to  you  easily  able 
to  fight  against  two  who  are  not  boxers,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  rich  and  fat  ?  Not  perhaps  with  both  at  once, 
said  he.  Not  even,  said  I,  if  he  should  be  enabled  to  re- 
tire a  little,  and  then  turn  back  and  give  a  blow  to  the 
furthest  in  advance,  and  repeat  this  frequently  in  the  sun 
and  heat  ?  would  not  a  person  of  this  kind  easily  defeat 
many  such  as  these  ?  Clearly  so,  and  no  wonder,  said  he. 
But  think  you  not,  that  the  rich  have  more  science  and 
experience  in  boxing  than  in  the  military  art  ?  I  do,  said 
he.  In  that  case,  according  to  appearances,  our  wrestlers 
will  easily  combat  with  double  and  threefold  their  number. 
I  will  agree  with  you,  said  he ;  for  I  believe  you  say  right. 
But  what, — supposing  they  were  to  send  an  embassy  to 
another  state,  informing  them  of  their  true  situation, 
telling  them.  We  make  no  use  either  of  gold  or  silver, 
neither  is  it  lawful  for  us  to  use  them,  while  for  you  it  is 
so:  if  then  you  become  our  allies  in  war,  you  shall 
receive  the  enemy's  spoils;  think  you  that  any,  on  hear- 
ing this,  would  choose  to  fight  against  stanch  and  resolute 
dogs, rather  than  in  alliance  with  the  dogs  to  fight  against 
fat  and  tender  sheep  ?  I  think  not ;  but,  if  the  wealth  of 
all  the  rest  be  accumulated  in  one  single  state,  take  care 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


>33 


that  it  [the  wealthy  state]  does  not  endanger  that  which  is 
poor.  How  good  you  are,  said  I,  to  think  that  any  other 
deserves  to  be  called  a  state  except  such  as  we  have  estab- 
lished. Why  not  ?  said  he.  To  those  others,  said  I,  we 
must  give  a  more  magnificent  appellation;  for  each  of 
them  comprises  very  many  states,  and  is  not  one,  as  was 
said  in  the  game ;  *  for  there  are  always  in  them,  however 
small  they  be,  two  parties  hostile  to  each  other, —  the  poor 
and  the  rich ;  and  in  each  of  these  again  there  are  very 
many;  to  which,  if  you  apply  as  to  one,  you  would  be 
entirely  mistaken;  but  if,  as  to  many,  giving  one  party 
the  goods  and  power,  or  even  persons,  of  the  other, 
you  will  always  have  the  many  for  your  allies,  and  the  few 
for  enemies ;  and,  so  long  as  your  state  be  managed  tem- 
perately, as  lately  established,  it  will  be  the  greatest,  — 
not  I  mean  in  mere  repute,  but  really  the  greatest,  though 
its  defenders  were  no  more  than  one  thousand;  for  a 
single  state  of  such  size  you  will  not  easily  find,  either 
among  Greeks  or  barbarians,  but  many  which  have  the 
repute  of  being  many  times  larger  than  one  such  as  this. 
Are  you  of  a  different  opinion  ?    No,  by  Zeus,  said  he. 

Chap.  III.  This,  then,  said  I,  will  probably  be  the 
best  boundary  mark  for  our  rulers  as  to  the  size  that 
a  state  should  attain,  and  what  extent  of  ground  should 
be  marked  off  for  it  in  proportion  to  its  bulk,  without 
reference  to  anything  further  ?  f  What  boundary  ?  said 
he.  I  suppose,  said  I,  [it  should  be]  this:  So  long  as 
the  city,  as  it  increases,  continues  to  be  one,  so  far 
it  may  increase,  but  no  further.  Very  right,  said  he. 
We  will  impose,  then,  this  further  injunction  on  our 
guardians,  to  take  care  by  all  means  that  the  city  be 
neither  small  nor  great,  but   of  moderate  extent,  and 

*The  scholiast  tells  us  that  «to  play  at  cities'*  {irdXeig  Trai^civ)  is  a 
kind  of  game  at  dice,  in  which  the  players  cried,  —  «One  city,»  or 
"Many  cities;*  and  he  informs  us,  moreover,  that  the  expression 
was  proverbial. 

t  From  the  previous  discussion  respecting  the  unity  and  harmony  of 
a  state,  Socrates  conceives  that  it  may  be  inferred  also  what  decision 
should  be  formed  respecting  its  size  and  boundaries ;  and  he  wishes  it  to 
be  increased  only  in  such  way  as  may  be  consistent  with  moderate  bulk, 
and  not  endanger  its  unity  and  the  harmony  of  its  several  parts. 


134 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


one  only.  This  probably  said  he,  will  be  a  trifling  in- 
junction. A  more  trifling  one  still,  said  I,  is  what  we 
previously  mentioned,  when  we  observed,  that  if  any 
descendant  of  the  guardians  be  depraved,  he  should  be 
dismissed  to  the  other  classes;  and  if  one  from  the 
other  classes  be  worthy,  he  should  be  promoted  to  that 
of  the  guardians;  by  all  which  it  was  intended  to  show 
that  all  the  other  citizens  should  apply  themselves  each 
to  that  particular  art  for  which  he  has  a  natural  genius, 
that  so,  each  minding  his  own  proper  work,  should  not 
become  many,  but  one;  and  thus,  consequently,  the 
whole  state  would  have  the  nature  of  unity;  not  plu- 
rality. Well, —  this,  indeed,  said  he,  is  a  still  more 
trifling  injunction  than  the  other.  We  do  not  here, 
said  I,  good  Adimantus,  as  any  one  might  suppose,  im- 
pose on  them  many  and  grave  injunctions,  but  all  of  them 
rather  trifling,  if  they  take  care  of  one  grand  point  that 
we  speak  about,  or  rather  not  so  much  great  as  suf- 
ficient. What  is  that  ?  said  he.  The  education,  said  I, 
and  nurture  of  children;  for  if,  by  being  well  edu- 
cated, they  become  temperate  men,  they  will  easily  see 
through  all  these  things,  and  such  other  things  as  we  pass 
by  at  present, — women,  marriages,  and  the  propagation 
of  the  species, — inasmuch  as  these  things  ought  all,  ac- 
cording to  the  proverb,*  to  be  made  entirely  common 
among  friends.  Yes, — for  that,  said  he,  would  be 
most  right.  And  moreover,  said  I,  if  once  a  republic 
is  set  a-going,  it  proceeds  as  a  circle,  constantly  on 
the  increase.  For  nurture  and  good  education,  when 
maintained,  engender  good  dispositions,  and  good  dis- 
positions, partaking  of  such  education,  turn  out  still 
better  than  the  former,  especially  with  reference  to  prop- 
agation, just  as  with  all  other  animals.  Probably,  said 
he.  To  speak,  then,  in  brief,  this,  particularly,  the  guard- 
ians of  the  state  must  guard  against,  that  it  may  not 
be  corrupted  unawares, —  nay,  above  all  things,  must 
they  guard  against  this,  not  to  nake  innovations  in 
gymnastics  and  music,  contrary  to  the  established  order 
of  the  state,  but  as  far  as  possible  maintain  it,  through 

*  Allusion  is  here  made  to  the  well-known  Pythagorean  adage, —  rd 
t€iv  <l>'tXuv  Koivd,  all  the  property  of  friends  should  be  held  in  common. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


'35 


fear  that  while  a  man  adopts  that  poetical  expres- 
sion, 

.    .    .    Men  most  admire  that  song 
Which  most  partakes  of  novelty,* 

one  might  often  think  that  the  poet  means  not  new  songs, 
but  some  new  style  of  song,  and  so  commends  it ;  but 
such  as  this  one  ought  neither  to  commend  nor  admit ; 
for  as  to  receiving  a  new  kind  of  music  one  should  be 
specially  cautious,  as  endangering  the  whole :  for  never 
as  Damon  says,  and  I  quite  agree  with  him,  are  the 
measures  of  music  altered  without  affecting  the  most 
important  laws  of  the  state.  And  me,  too,  you  may  place, 
said  Adimantus,  among  those  who  are  of  that  opinion. 

Chap.  IV.  We  must  erect,  then,  said  I,  in  music,  as 
it  seems  a  kind  of  citadel  for  our  guardians.  Neverthe- 
less, neglect  of  the  laws  even  here,  said  he,  easily  and 
imperceptibly  steals  in.  Yes,  said  I,  in  the  way  of  diver- 
sion, and  as  if  it  were  doing  no  mischief.  No,  for  it 
does  nothing  else,  said  he,  but  by  gradually  insinuating 
itself  into  it,  insensibly  flow  into  their  manners  and  pur- 
suits; and  afterward  in  a  greater  degree  it  finds  its  way 
into  their  contracts  with  each  other;  and  from  contracts 
it  enters  with  much  boldness  into  the  laws  and  political 
establishments,  Socrates,  till  at  last  it  overturns  every- 
thing, privately  as  well  as  publicly.  Well,  then,  said  I, 
is  this  the  case  ?  It  appears  so  to  me,  he  replied.  Ought 
not  our  children,  then,  as  I  said  at  the  beginning,  even 
from  infancy,  to  be  allowed  diversions  more  conformable 
to  the  laws  ?  because  if  their  diversions  are  inconsistent 
with  the  laws,  and  the  children  such  themselves,  it  is 
impossible  that  they  should  grow  up  men  obedient  to  the 
laws  and  virtuous.    How  can  it  be  otherwise  ?  said  he. 

*Hom.  Odyss.  i.  v.  353;  but  with  slight  variation,  —  the  original  hav- 
ing oKovovTcaai,  not  aeig-dvreaac.  Great  stress  is  here  laid  on  the  neces- 
sity of  keeping  up  the  severe  old  style  of  music,  inasmuch  as  the 
introduction  of  a  new  and  more  luxurious  style  would  infallibly  produce 
a  general  corruption  of  national  morals.  The  importance  attached  to 
this  point  will  be  more  truly  seen  from  considering  the  close  relation 
which,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Greeks,  subsisted  between  all  the  liberal 
arts.  Plato  alludes  to  the  subject  at  length  in  the  «Laws,»  ii.  pp. 
656  c,  659  e,  and  iii,  pp.  700  a,  etc,,  and  vii.  throughout. 


136 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


When,  therefore,  children  beginning  well  set  about  their 
diversions  conformably  to  the  laws,  with  music,  quite  the 
contrary  to  what  happens  in  the  former  case  attends 
them  in  everything,  and  grows  up  with  them,  and  cor- 
rects in  the  state  whatever  was  before  neglected.  True, 
indeed,  said  he.  And  regulations,  even,  said  I,  that  seem 
but  of  little  importance,  these  persons  discover  anew, 
which  the  others  had  allowed  altogether  to  perish.  What 
regulations  ?  Such  as  these :  That  the  younger  should 
keep  silence  before  the  elder,  as  is  proper,  and  give 
them  place,  and  rise  up  before  them,  and  show  rever- 
ence to  parents;  likewise  what  shaving,  what  clothes 
and  shoes  are  proper,  with  the  whole  bodily  dress, 
and  all  similar  matters.  Do  not  you  think  so  ?  I  do. 
But  to  make  laws  about  these  things,  would,  I  think, 
be  silly;  neither  is  it  done  anywhere;  nor  would  it 
stand,  though  established  both  by  word  and  writing.  For 
how  can  it  ?  It  seems  then,  said  I,  Adimantus,  that  in 
whatever  way  a  man  sets  out  in  his  education,  such  accord- 
ingly will  be  its  consequences ;  for  does  not  the  like  always 
attract  the  like  ?  Of  course.  And  we  may  say,  I  suppose, 
that  it  results  at  last  in  something  complete  and  vigor- 
ous, whether  it  be  good  or  the  contrary  ?  Of  course, 
said  he.  I  would  not  then,  said  I,  for  these  reasons,  un- 
dertake as  yet,  to  make  laws  about  such  matters  as  these. 
Very  properly,  said  he.  But  what,  by  the  gods,  said  I, 
as  to  those  laws  relative  to  matters  of  contract,  and  to 
the  traffic  which  they  severally  transact  with  each  other 
in  the  market,  and,  if  you  please,  their  traffic  likewise 
among  their  handicrafts,  their  abusiveness  and  bodily 
assaults,  their  entering  of  actions  at  law,  their  institution 
of  judges,  and  likewise  such  imposts  and  payments  of 
taxes  as  might  be  expedient  either  in  the  markets  or  at 
the  ports, — or  generally,  as  to  laws  commercial,  muni- 
cipal, or  marine,  or  any  other  the  like, — shall  we  venture 
to  establish  any  of  these  ?  It  is  improper,  said  he,  to 
prescribe  them  to  good  and  worthy  men;  for  the  greater 
part  of  them,  such  as  ought  to  be  established  by  law, 
they  will  easily  find  out  for  themselves.  Yes,  said  I,  my 
friend,  if  at  least  God  grant  them  security  for  those  laws 
which  we  have  above  described.    But  if  not  so,  said  he, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


137 


they  will  spend  the  whole  of  their  life  making  and  amend- 
ing many  such  [regulations],  imagining  that  they  will 
thus  attain  to  what  is  best.  You  say  that  such  as  these, 
said  I,  will  lead  a  life  like  that  of  sick  persons,  and  such 
as  are  unwilling,  through  intemperance,  to  relinquish  a 
a  bad  mode  of  living  ?  Quite  so.  And  truly,  these  at  least 
pass  their  time  very  pleasantly;  for  though  they  undergo 
remedial  treatment,  they  do  nothing  but  make  their  ail- 
ments greater  and  more  complex;  and  they  are  ever  in 
hopes,  when  any  one  recommends  any  medicine  to  them, 
that  by  these  means  they  shall  soon  get  well.  Aye,  that  is 
just  the  case  with  diseased  persons  like  these.  But 
what,  said  I,  is  not  this  pleasant  of  them,  to  reckon 
that  man  the  most  hateful  of  all,  who  tells  them  the 
truth,  namely,  that,  till  one  abandons  drunkenness,  glut- 
tony, unchaste  pleasures,  and  laziness,  neither  drugs  nor 
caustics,  nor  the  use  of  the  knife,  nor  charms,  nor  amu- 
lets, nor  any  other  such  things  as  these,  will  be  of  any 
avail  ?  That,  said  he,  is  not  very  pleasant ;  for  to  be 
angry  with  one  who  tells  us  what  is  right,  has  nothing 
in  it  that  is  pleasant.  You  seem  to  be  no  admirer,  said  I, 
of  such  men  as  these.    No,  truly. 

Chap.  V.  You  cannot  then  surely  approve  of  it,  even 
though  the  entire  city  (as  we  were  lately  saying)  should 
act  so;  or  rather,  do  they  not  seem  to  be  doing  the  same 
that  is  done  by  all  those  cities,  which,  hov/ever  ill-gov- 
erned, command  their  citizens  not  to  alter  any  part  of 
the  constitution,  for  that  death  will  be  inflicted  on  all 
who  do  any  stich  things;  while  on  the  other  hand,  who- 
ever most  cheerfully  serves  those  who  thus  govern,  grati- 
fying them  with  insinuating  flattery,  and  exhibits  great 
dexterity  in  anticipating  and  satisfying  their  desires,  will 
be  deemed  both  good  and  wise  in  matters  of  highest  im- 
portance, and  will  be  held  by  them  also  in  the  greatest 
honor  ?  They  seem  to  me  at  least,  said  he,  to  do  the 
very  same  thing,  and  I  cannot  by  any  means  commend 
them.  But  what  again  as  to  those  who  desire  to  man- 
age such  states,  and  are  even  fond  of  it,  do  you  not  admire 
their  courage  and  dexterity  ?  I  do,  said  he ;  excepting, 
indeed,  such  as  are  imposed  on  by  them,  and  fancy  that 


138 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


they  are  really  politicians,  because  they  are  praised  by 
the  multitude.  How  do  you  mean  ?  Do  you  not  pardon 
those  men  ?  said  I.  Do  you  think  it  even  possible  that 
a  man  ignorant  of  the  art  of  measuring,  supposing  he 
should  hear  many  other  such  men  tell  him  that  he  is  four 
cubits  high,  would  not  believe  this  of  himself  ?  Impos- 
sible, said  he.  Be  not  angry  then ;  for  such  as  these  are 
of  all  the  most  ridiculous ;  because,  as  they  are  ever  making 
laws  about  such  things  as  we  have  just  mentioned,  and 
ever  mending  them,  they  conceive  they  shall  find  some 
end  to  the  frauds  respecting  commerce,  and  what  else  I 
just  now  spoke  about,  through  ignorance  of  the  fact  that 
they  are  in  fact,  as  it  were,  trying  to  destroy  a  hydra. 
Nevertheless,  it  is  nothing  else,  said  he,  that  they  are 
now  attempting.  I  think,  then,  said  I,  that  a  true  law- 
giver ought  not  to  give  himself  much  trouble  about  such 
sorts  of  laws  and  police,  either  in  an  ill  or  well-ordered 
state;  in  the  one,  because  it  is  unprofitable  and  of  no 
avail;  in  the  other,  because,  as  for  some  of  the  laws, 
any  one  whatever  can  find  them  out,  while  others  flow 
quite  of  their  own  accord  out  of  their  former  habits  and 
pursuits. 

What  then,  in  the  enactment  of  laws,  said  he,  yet  re- 
mains for  us  to  consider  ?  And  I  said :  We  have  nothing, 
indeed,  remaining:  to  the  Delphian  Apollo,  however,  there 
remains  the  greatest,  noblest,  and  most  important  of  legal 
institutions.  Of  what  kind  ?  said  he.  The  erection  of 
temples,  sacrifices,  and  other  services  to  the  gods,  demons, 
and  heroes;  likewise  the  rites  of  the  dead,  and  what 
other  ceremonies  should  be  gone  through,  with  a  view  to 
their  propitiation.  Such  things  as  these,  indeed,  we 
neither  know  ourselves,  nor,  in  founding  the  state,  would 
we  intrust  them  to  any  other,  if  we  be  wise ;  nor  would 
we  employ  any  other  interpreter  than  that  of  the  coun- 
try: for  surely  this  god  being  the  nati:ral  interpreter  to 
all  men  about  such  matters,  interprets  to  them  sitting  in 
the  middle,  and,  as  it  were,  navel  of  the  earth.  Aye, 
you  say  well,  said  he;  and  we  must  act  accordingly. 

Chap.  VI.  Thus  then,  son  of  Ariston,  said  I,  is  our 
state  established.    And,  in  the  next  place,  having  pro- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


vided  from  some  source  or  other  sufificient  light  for  it, 
do  you  yourself  observe,  and  call  on  your  brother  and 
Polemarchus  and  these  others  also  to  do  so  also,  whether 
we  can  at  all  perceive  where  justice  lies,  and  where  in- 
justice, and  in  what  respect  they  differ  from  each  other; 
and  likewise  which  of  the  two  that  man  ought  to  pos- 
sess, who  proposes  to  be  happy,  whether  with  or  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  gods  and  men.  You  say  nothing 
to  the  purpose,  replied  Glaucon;  for  you  yourself  prom- 
ised to  inquire  into  this,  as  it  was  unholy  for  you  not  to 
assist  by  all  possible  means  the  cause  of  justice.  What 
you  remind  me  of,  said  I,  is  true ;  and  I  must  act  ac- 
cordingly; still  it  is  proper,  that  you  too  should  assist  in 
the  inquiry.  Aye,  that  we  will,  said  he.  I  hope  then, 
said  I,  to  be  able  to  find  what  I  want  in  the  following 
manner:  I  think  that  our  city,  if  at  least  it  has  been 
rightly  established,  should  be  perfectly  good.  Necessarily 
so,  said  he.  It  is  evident  then,  that  it  is  wise,  and  brave, 
and  temperate,  and  just.  Manifestly  so.  Whatever  then 
of  these  [virtues]  we  shall  find  in  it,  the  remainder  will 
be  that  which  is  not  found  ?  Of  course.  Supposing  of 
any  four  things  whatever,  if  we  were  in  quest  of  one, 
were  we  to  discover  this  one  at  first,  we  should  be 
satisfied ;  and  were  we  first  to  discover  the  other  three,  we 
should  discover  from  this  itself  what  we  were  inquiring 
after;  for  it  would  be  manifestly  no  other  than  what 
was  left  behind.  You  say  right,  said  he.  Well  then, 
since  of  the  virtues  above  mentioned  there  happened 
to  be  four  [in  our  state],  shall  we  not  inquire  about 
them  in  a  similar  manner  ?    Plainly  so. 

Chap.  VII.  First  of  all,  indeed,  to  my  mind  at  least, 
wisdom  appears  to  hold  in  it  a  very  conspicuous  place ; 
and  there  appears  to  be  something  very  peculiar  about 
it.  What  is  that  ?  said  he.  The  state  which  we  have 
described  appears  to  me  to  be  really  wise,  for  it  is  well 
advised ;  is  it  not  ?  It  is.  And  surely  this  very  thing, 
the  ability  of  advising  well,  is  evidently  a  kind  of  science ; 
for  in  no  case  do  men  advise  well  through  ignorance, 
but  only  by  means  of  science.  Plainly  so.  But  there  are 
many  and  various  kinds  of  science  in  the  state  ?  Of 


140 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


course  there  are.  Is  it  then  owing  to  the  science  of 
builders,  that  the  state  is  to  be  termed  wise  and  well- 
advised  ?  By  no  means  through  this,  said  he ;  for  it 
would  only  be  clever  in  building.  A  state,  then,  is  not 
to  be  called  wise  on  account  of  its  skill  in  advising  the 
best  methods  of  building  ?  Surely  not.  And  what,  as 
respects  skill  in  brass-work  or  anything  else  of  a  similar 
nature  ?  For  none  of  these,  said  he.  Nor  yet  for  its 
knowledge  of  the  productions  of  the  earth  [is  it  said  to 
be  wise],  but  only  skilled  in  agriculture.  I  think  so. 
But  what,  said  I ;  is  there  any  science  among  any  of  the 
citizens  in  the  state  which  we  have  just  founded,  which 
deliberates,  not  about  any  particular  thing  in  the  city, 

'  but  about  the  whole,  how  it  may  best  be  conducted,  both 
as  regards  itself  and  its  intercourse  with  other  cities  ? 
Yes,  there  is.  What  is  it,  said  I,  and  among  whom  to 
be  found  ?  This  very  guardianship,  said  he ;  and  [it  may 
be  found]  among  those  very  governors,  whom  we  lately 
termed  perfect  guardians.  On  account  then  of  this  skill, 
what  do  you  term  the  state  ?  Well-advised,  said  he,  and 
really  wise  Whether  then,  said  I,  do  you  imagine  that 
the  braziers,  or  these  true  guardians,  will  be  the  more 
numerous  in  the  state  ?  The  braziers,  said  he,  far  more 
so.  And  of  all,  said  I,  who  owing  to  their  skill  are  to  be 
held  in  account,  will  not  these  guardians  be  the  fewest 
in  number  ?  By  far.  By  this  smallest  class  and  portion 
of  the  state  then,  and  by  the  science  that  presides  over 
and  governs  it,  is  the  whole  city  wisely  established  on 

Lnatural  principles;  and  this  class,  as  it  seems,  is  by  nature 
the  smallest,  whose  business  it  is  to  have  a  share  in  that 
science,  which  of  all  others  ought  alone  to  be  denomi- 
nated wisdom.  Your  remark,  replied  he,  is  perfectly  true. 
We  have  found  then,  I  know  not  how,  one  of  the  four, 
both  as  respects  its  nature  and  the  part  of  the  state  in 
which  it  resides.  And  for  my  part,  said  he,  I  think  it 
has  been  sufficiently  described. 

Chap.  VIII.  But  as  to  fortitude,  both  as  respects  itself, 
and  the  particular  part  of  the  state  in  which  it  resides, 
on  account  of  which  the  state  is  termed  brave,  that  can 
be  no  difficult  matter  to  discover.    How  so  ?    Who,  said 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


141 


I,  would  call  a  state  brave  or  cowardly,  with  relation  to 
any  other  than  that  particular  portion  which  makes  war 
and  fights  in  its  defense  ?  No  one  would,  said  he,  with 
relation  to  any  other.  No,  said  I,  for  I  do  not  think 
that  the  other  classes  therein,  whether  cowardly  or  brave, 
can  have  any  influence  to  make  it  either  the  one  or  the 
other.  No,  indeed.  The  state  then  is  brave  in  a  certain 
part  of  itself,  because  it  contains  such  a  power  as  will 
constantly  maintain  its  opinion  aboutthings  dreadful,  as 
to  their  being  these  very  things,  and  such  like,  just  as 
the  lawp-ivp|-  inmlppitprl  dnrino-  training:  Do  you  not  call 
this  fortitude  ?  I  have  not  thoroughly  comprehended,  said 
he,  what  you  say;  so  tell  it  over  again.  Fortitude,  said 
I,  I  term  a  kind  of  preservative.  What  sort  of  preservative  ? 

A  preservative  of    npi'rjinn   fnrijifrl  hy  laiv  in    n  COUrSC  of 

education  about  things  dreadful,  as  to  their  nature  and, 
quality;  and  I  called  it  a  constant  preservative,  because 
one  retains  it  both  in  pains  and  pleasures,  desires  and 
fears,  and  never  casts  it  off ;  and,  if  you  please,  I  will 
liken  it  to  what  I  think  it  closely  resembles.  Pray  do. 
Do  not  you  know  then,  said  I,  that  dyers,  when  they 
want  to  dye  their  wool,  that  it  may  be  purple,  choose 
out  of  ever  so  many  colors  only  the  white,  and  then 
prepare  and  manage  it  with  no  trifling  pains,  so  that  it 
may  best  take  a  bright  hue,  and  then  they  dye  it  ?  And 
whatever  is  dyed  in  this  manner  is  of  an  indelible  dye; 
nor  can  any  washing,  either  without  or  with  soap,  take 
away  its  hue;  but  as  for  wool  not  thus  managed,  you 
know  of  what  sort  it  proves,  whether  one  dye  either  this  or 
other  colors,  without  previous  preparation.  I  know,  said 
he,  that  they  are  easily  washed  out,  and  get  shabby. 
Suppose  then,  that  we,  too,  were  to  perform  according  to 
our  ability  a  similar  operation,  when  selecting  our  soldiers, 
and  instructing  them  in  music  and  gymnastics;  and  that 
we  should  attend  to  no  other  object,  than  that  they  should 
obediently  and  in  the  best  manner  receive  the  laws,  as 
they  would  a  color,  and  so  acquire  indelible  opinions 
about  the  dreadful,  and  other  things  as  well,  through  hav- 
ing had  a  suitable  temper  and  education;  these  lyes 
then,  however  strongly  detersive,  could  not  wash  away 
their  dye,  whether  they  be  pleasure  (which  is  more  power- 


142 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


ful  in  effecting  this  than  any  alkali  or  lyes  whatever),  or 
pain,  fear,  and  desire,  which  exceed  in  power  all  other 
solvents.  Such  a  power  then,  and  constant  maintenance 
of  right  and  legitimate  opinion  about  what  is  dreadful  or 
not  so,  I  term  and  define  to  be  fortitude,  unless  you 
offer  some  other  meaning.  No;  I  can  offer  none,  said 
he;  for  you  seem  to  me  to  hold,  that  when  a  right 
opinion  about  these  matters  arises  without  education,  it 
is  both  savage  and  slavish,  and  not  at  all  according  to 
law;  and  you  give  it  some  other  name  besides  fortitude. 
Your  remark  is  quite  true,  said  I.  I  admit,  then,  that 
this  is  fortitude.  Admit  further,  said  I,  that  it  is  polit- 
ical fortitude,  and  you  will  admit  rightly;  but  we  will 
inquire  about  it,  if  you  please,  more  perfectly  some  other 
time;  for,  at  present,  it  is  not  this,  but  justice,  that  we 
are  seeking;  and  with  regard  to  the  inquiry  about  the 
other,  that  has,  in  my  opinion,  been  carried  far  enough. 
You  say  well,  he  rejoined. 

Chap.  IX.  There  yet  remain,  said  I,  two  [virtues]  in 
the  state  which  we  must  consider, —  namely,  temperance, 
and  that,  for  the  sake  of  which  we  have  been  searching 
after  all  the  rest, — that  is  justice.  Certainly.  How  then 
can  we  find  out  justice,  so  as  to  trouble  ourselves  no 
further  about  temperance  ?  I  truly  neither  know,  said 
he,  nor  do  I  wish  it  to  be  developed  before  the  other,  if 
at  least  we  are  on  that  account  to  dismiss  altogether  the 
consideration  of  temperance;  but,  pray  oblige  me,  and 
consider  this  before  the  other.  I  for  my  part  am  quite 
willing,  said  I ;  for  I  should  be  acting  wrongly  not  to  do 
so.  Consider  then,  said  he.  We  must  consider,  I  replied; 
and  as  it  appears  from  this  point  of  view,  it  seems  to 
resemble  a  sort  of  symphony  and  harmony  more  than  the 
virtues  formerly  mentioned.  How  ?  Temperance,  said  I, 
is  somehow  a  certain  decorum,  and  a  restraint,  as  one 
may  say,  exercised  over  certain  pleasures  and  desires; 
and  when  one  boasts  of  being  superior  to  oneself,  and 
many  other  such-like  expressions,  these  are  mentioned  as 
indications  of  it;  are  they  not  ?  Yes, —  they  are  its  lead- 
ing indications,  said  he.  But  is  not  the  expression, 
"superior  to  oneself,"  ridiculous?  for  he  who  is  superior 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


'43 


to  himself  must  somehow  also  be  inferior  to  himself ;  and 
the  inferior  be  the  superior, — for  the  same  person  is 
spoken  of  in  all  these  cases.  How  otherwise  ?  To  me, 
however,  said  I,  the  expression  seems  to  denote,  that  in 
the  same  man,  as  regards  his  soul,  there  is  one  part  bet- 
ter, and  another  worse ;  and  that  when  the  better  part  of 
his  nature  governs  the  inferior,  this  is  what  is  termed 
being  superior  to  himself,  and  expresses  a  commendation; 
but  when,  owing  to  bad  education  or  associations,  that 
better  and  smaller  part  is  swayed  by  the  superior  power 
of  the  worse  part, — then  one  says,  by  way  of  reproach 
and  blame,  that  the  person  thus  affected  is  inferior  to 
himself  and  altogether  in  disorder.  Aye, — it  would  seem 
so,  said  he.  Look  then,  said  I,  at  our  new  state,  and 
you  will  find  one  of  these  in  it:  for  you  will  agree,  that 
it  may  justly  be  addressed  as  superior  to  itself,  if  that 
state,  in  which  the  better  part  governs  the  worse,  is 
called  temperate  and  superior  to  itself.  I  do  see  it,  said 
he ;  and  you  say  true.  And  moreover  one  may  find  very 
many  and  various  desires,  and  pleasures,  and  pains, 
especially  among  children,  and  women,  and  domestics, 
and  likewise  among  the  greatest  and  most  depraved  por- 
tion of  those  who  are  called  free.  Certainly.  But  as  for 
the  simple  and  moderate  desires  which  are  led  by  the 
intellect,  with  judgment  and  right  opinion,  you  will  meet 
with  them  only  in  the  few,  those,  namely,  of  the  best 
temper  and  best  educated.  True,  said  he.  And  do  not 
you  see  that  these  things  are  contained  in  our  state,  and 
that  there  are  too,  the  desires  of  the  many  and  the  baser 
part  are  restrained  by  the  desires  and  prudence  of  the 
smaller  and  more  moderate  part  ?    I  do,  said  he. 

Chap.  X.  If  then,  we  are  to  call  any  state  superior 
to  pleasures  and  desires,  and  to  itself  also,  this  may  be 
so  called.  Yes,  by  all  means,  said  he.  And  is  it  not  on 
all  these  accounts  temperate  ?  Quite  so,  said  he.  And 
if,  again,  in  any  other  state,  the  governors  and  the 
governed  agree  in  opinion  on  the  point,  as  to  the  fit 
governing  party,  it  is  to  be  found  in  this:  do  you  not 
think  so  ?  I  am  strongly  of  that  opinion.  In  whom,  then, 
of  the  citizens  will  you  say  that  temperance  resides, 


144 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


when  they  are  thus  situated;  in  the  governors,  or  the 
governed  ?  In  both  of  them  probably,  said  he.  Do  you 
see  then,  said  I,  that  we  just  now  rightly  guessed,  that 
temperance  resembles  a  kind  of  harmony  ?  How  so  ? 
Because  —  not  as  fortitude  and  wisdom  (each  of  which 
resides  in  a  certain  part,  the  latter  making  the  state  wise, 
and  the  former  courageous),  not  after  this  manner  does 
temperance  render  the  state  temperate ;  but  it  is  naturally 
diffused  through  the  whole,  making  the  weakest  and  the 
strongest  and  the  intermediate  all  to  agree,  either  in  pru- 
dence, if  you  will,  or  if  you  will,  in  strength,  magnitude, 
or  in  substance,  or  anything  else  of  the  same  kind,;  so 
that  most  justly  may  we  say,  that  this  concord  is  tem- 
perance, a  natural  consent  between  the  worse  and  the 
better  part,  [with  reference  to  the  question]  which  of 
them  ought  to  govern,  either  in  the  state  or  in  each  indi- 
vidual. I  am  quite  of  the  same  opinion,  said  he.  Well 
then,  said  I,  three  qualities  in  our  state,  it  would  seem, 
have  been  clearly  discovered;  but  with  respect  to  the 
remaining  species,  owing  to  which  the  state  has  the 
quality  of  virtue ;  what  can  it  be  ?  It  is  plain  that  it  is 
justice.  It  is  plain.  Ought  we  not  then,  Glaucon,  like 
huntsmen,  closely  surrounding  a  thicket,  to  tak,e  great  care 
that  justice  does  not  somehow  or  other  escape,  and  vanish 
from  our  sight  ?  for  it  is  clear  that  it  is  somewhere  here. 
Look  earnestly,  therefore,  to  spy  it  out,  if  you  can  any- 
how see  it  sooner  than  me,  and  then  point  it  out  to  me. 
Would  that  I  could,  said  he ;  but  if  you  will  use  me  rather 
as  an  attendant,  and  one  able  only  to  perceive  what  is 
pointed  out  to  him,  you  will  then  be  treating  me  just  as 
you  ought.  Call  on  the  gods  with  me,  said  I,  and^ follow. 
I  will  do  so,  said  he ;  do  you  only  lead  the  way.  To  me, 
said  I,  this  seems  a  place  somehow  hard  of  access,  and 
overcast  with  shadow;  it  is  indeed  dark,  and  hard  to 
penetrate;  but  still  we  must  go  on.  We  must,  said  he. 
And  I  perceiving,  said  Ho!  Ho!  Glaucon,  we  seem  to 
have  some  track;  and  I  think  that  it  will  not  altogether 
escape  us.  You  tell  good  news,  said  he.  Verily,  said  I, 
our  senses  are  somewhat  blunted.  As  how  ?  Long  since, 
even  from  the  first,  my  fine  fellow,  has  it  been  rolling  at 
our  feet;  and  we  perceived  it  not,  but  made  the  most 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


US 


ridiculous  fi<^ure,  like  those  who  sometimes  seek  for  what 
they  already  have  in  their  hands :  so  we  did  not  perceive 
it,  but  were  looking  out  to  a  distance ;  and  thus  perhaps 
it  escaped  us.  How  mean  you  ?  Said  he.  Thus,  said  I ; 
that  I  think,  although  we  have  been  long  talking  and 
hearing  of  it,  we  do  not  understand  ourselves,  as  to  the 
manner  in  which  we  expressed  it.  A  long  preamble,  said 
he,  to  one  who  is  eager  to  hear. 


y'^HAP.  XI.  Well,  now,  said  I,  listen  whether  I  say  any- 
thing to  the  point:  for  what  we  at  first  settled,  when 
regulating  the  state,  as  what  ought  always  to  be  done, 
that,  I  think,  or  a  species  thereof,  is  justice:  this 
surely  we  settled,  and  frequently  mentioned,  if  you  re- 
member; that  every  one  ought  to  apply  himself  to  one 
thing,  with  reference  to  the  state,  to  that,  namely,  to 
which  his  genius  most  naturally  inclines  him  ?  Yes,  we 
did  say  so.  And  also,  that  attending  to  one's  own  affairs, 
and  not  busying  oneself  about  many  things,  is  justice, 
and  this  we  have  not  only  heard  from  many  others,  but 
have  frequently  said  ourselves.  We  have  said  so.  This 
then,  my  friend,  said  I,  somehow  seems  to  be  justice,  to 
attend  to  one's  own  business.  Do  you  know  whence  I 
infer  this  ?  No ;  pray  tell  me,  said  he.  Besides  what  we 
have  already  considered  in  the  state,  namely,  temper- 
ance, fortitude,  and  wisdom,  this,  said  I,  seems  to 
remain,  which  enables  all  these  both  to  have  a  being  in 
the  state  and  to  afford  safety  to  its  indwellers  as  long  as 
it  continues  therein;  and  we  said  likewise,  that  justice 
would  be  that  remaining  part,  if  we  found  the  other  three. 
It  must  be  so,  said  he.  But  if,  said  I,  you  want  to  judge, 
which  of  these,  by  its  presence  in  the  state,  will  do  it 
the  greatest  proportionate  good;  it  would  be  difficult  to 
determine  whether  the  coincidence  of  opinion  between  the 
governors  and  the  governed,  or  the  maintenance  of  legiti- 
mate opinion  among  the  soldiers  about  what  is  dreadful, 
and  what  is  not  so,  or  what  is  wisdom  and  guardian- 
ship in  the  rulers,  or  whether  this,  by  its  existence  in  the 
state,  makes  it  proportionably  best,  namely,  when  child 
and  woman,  bond  and  free,  artificer,  magistrate,  and  sub- 
ject, every  one  in  short,  attends  to  his  own  business,  and 


lO 


146  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 

does  not  meddle.  Yes,  it  is  hard  to  decide,  said  he,  of 
course.  With  reference,  then,  to  the  virtue  of  a  state, 
that  power  which  makes  each  person  in  it  attend  to  his 
own  business,  rivals,  as  it  seems,  its  wisdom,  temperance, 
and  courage.  Undoubtedly  so,  said  he.  Will  you  not 
then,  constitute  justice  as  a  co-rival  with  these,  with  ref- 
erence to  the  virtue  of  a  state  ?  By  all  means.  Consider, 
then,  whether  you  agree  with  me  in  this:  will  you  enjoin 
the  rulers  to  give  just  decisions  in  judgment  ?  Of  course. 
And  in  giving  judgment,  what  else  are  they  to  aim  at  in 
preference  to  this,  namely,  that  no  one  shall  have  what 
belongs  to  others,  or  be  deprived  of  his  own  ?  No ;  they 
[must  aim]  at  this.  And  [do  they  not  aim  at  it],  when 
acting  justly  ?  Yes.  And  thus  justice  is  acknowledged 
to  be  the  habitual  practice  of  one's  own  proper  and  special 
work  ?  It  is  so.  See  then,  if  you  agree  with  me:  sup- 
pose a  carpenter  to  take  in  hand  the  work  of  a  shoemaker, 
or  a  shoemaker  the  work  of  a  carpenter,  exchanging 
either  their  tools  or  wages;  or  if  the  same  man  under- 
take both,  and  make  all  the  other  exchanges ;  think  you  that 
the  state  would  be  much  injured  ?  Not  very  much,  said 
he.  But  methinks,  if  a  craftsman,  or  one  born  to  a  money- 
getting  employment,  should  afterward,  through  being 
elated  by  wealth,  popularity,  strength,  or  any  thing  else 
of  the  kind,  try  to  advance  into  the  military  class,  or  out 
of  the  military  class  into  that  of  counsellor  and  guardian, 
when  unworthy  of  it,  and  these  should  exchange  tools 
and  rewards;  or  if  the  same  man  should  undertake  to  do 
all  these  things  at  once;  then,  I  suppose,  you  will  be 
of  opinion,  that  this  interchange  of  things  and  this  multi- 
plicity of  employments  by  a  single  person  is  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  state.  By  all  means.  A  meddling  spirit,  then, 
in  these  three  classes,  and  the  change  from  one  to  another, 
is  the  greatest  injtiry  to  the  state,  and  may  be  most 
correctly  called  its  depravity.  Aye,  truly  so.  But  will 
not  you  say  that  injustice  is  the  greatest  ill  a  state  can  do 
itself  ?    Of  course.    This  then  is  injustice. 

Chap.  XII.  Again  we  say,  as  follows:  The  peculiar 
occupation  of  the  money-getting,  the  auxiliary,  and  the 
guardian  class,  when  each  of  them  does  his  own  work  in 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


147 


a  state,  will  be  contrary  of  the  other,  that  is  justice,  and 
will  make  the  state  just.  The  case  appears  to  me,  said 
he,  to  be  no  otherwise  than  thus.  Let  us  not  as  yet, 
said  I,  affirm  this  for  certain:  but  if  it  shall  be  conceded 
by  us,  that  this  kind  enters  into  each  individual,  and 
that  there  is  justice,  we  will  then  agree;  for  what  shall 
we  say  ?  but  if  not,  then  we  must  push  our  inquiries 
further.  But  now  let  us  finish  the  inquiry  on  which  we 
were  engaged, —  namely,  whether,  in  judging,  we  should 
be  better  able,  by  first  contemplating  justice  in  some  of 
the  greater  objects  that  possess  it,  to  distinguish  its  nature 
in  a  single  man,  and  that  as  a  state  appeared  to  us  this 
very  object;  we  thus  therefore  formed  it  as  well  as  we 
possibly  could,  in  the  assurance  that  justice  would  be 
found  in  one  that  is  good.  As  to  what  we  have  discovered 
in  the  state,  then,  let  us  now  transfer  and  apply  it  to  a 
single  person;  and  if  the  two  correspond,  it  will  be  well; 
but  if  there  be  any  difference  in  the  individual,  we  will 
go  back  again  to  the  state,  and  put  it  to  the  test;  and, 
perhaps,  in  considering  them  side  by  side,  and  by  strik- 
ing them,  we  shall  make  justice  shine  forth,  like  fire 
from  flints;  and  when  once  clearly  apparent,  we  can  then 
firmly  establish  it  among  ourselves.  Aye,  you  are  speak- 
ing quite  in  the  right  way,  said  he;  and  thus,  too,  we 
must  act. 

With  respect  then,  said  I,  to  what  may  be  termed  the 
same,  whether  greater  or  less,  does  it  happen  to  be  dis- 
similar in  that  respect  in  which  we  call  it  the  same,  or 
is  it  similar  ?  Similar,  said  he.  The  just  man  then,  said 
I,  will  not  at  all  differ  from  the  just  state,  as  respects 
the  idea  of  justice,  but  will  be  similar  to  it.  Aye,  simi- 
lar, said  he.  However  a  state  appeared  to  be  just,  be- 
cause three  kinds  of  dispositions  being  in  it,  each  per- 
forms its  own  work;  but  it  appeared  to  be  temperate, 
brave  and  wise,  on  account  of  certain  other  affections 
and  habits  of  these  very  same  kinds.  True,  said  he. 
And  in  that  case,  my  friend,  we  shall  deem  it  proper, 
that  the  individual,  who  has  these  very  same  principles 
in  his  soul  (namely,  temperance,  fortitude,  wisdom), 
should  have  a  good  right,  from  having  the  same  affec- 
tions with  the  state,  to  be  called  by  the  same  names  ? 


148 


THE  REPUBUC  OF  PLATO 


He  needs  must,  said  I.  Here  again,  my  clever  fellow, 
we  have  fallen  into  a  trifling  discussion  about  the  soul, 
whether  it  does  or  does  not  contain  within  itself  these 
three  principles.  I  do  not  think  it  is  a  trifling  one,  said 
he:  for  probably  Socrates,  the  common  saying  is  true, 
that  things  excellent  are  difficult.  They  seem  so,  said  I, 
And  be  assured  of  this  at  least,  Glaucon,  that,  in  my  opin- 
ion, we  shall  never  comprehend  this  matter  accurately  by 
such  methods  as  we  are  now  using  in  our  conversation, 
because  the  road  which  really  leads  to  it  is  longer  and  of 
greater  extent :  still  we  will  consider  it  in  a  manner  con- 
sistent with  our  former  disquisitions  and  inquiries.  Ought 
we  not  to  acquiesce  in  this  ?  said  he :  for  to  me  at  least, 
and  for  the  present,  it  would  be  satisfactory  enough.  Aye, 
and  for  me  too,  said  I,  it  will  be  quite  sufficient.  Do  not 
get  tired  then,  said  he;  but  pursue  the  inquiry.  Is  it 
then  necessary,  said  I,  that  we  should  acknowledge  the 
very  same  characters  and  manners  to  exist  in  every  indi- 
vidual that  are  found  in  the  state  ?  because  there  is  no 
other  source  whence  they  arrived  thither.  It  were  ridicu- 
lous, indeed,  to  imagine  that  the  high  spirit  for  which  the 
Thracians,  Scythians,  and  nearly  all  the  northern  nations 
are  reputed,  does  not  arise  from  individual  personages; 
and  the  same  may  be  said  respecting  the  love  of  learning, 
which  one  may  especially  deem  natural  to  the  people  of 
this  country, —  or,  with  reference  to  the  love  of  riches, 
which  we  may  say  prevailed  especially  among  the  Phoeni- 
cians and  the  people  of  Egypt.  Quite  so,  said  he.  It  is 
so,  of  course,  said  I;  and  it  is  not  hard  of  recognition. 
No,  indeed. 

Chap.  XIII.  This,  however,  is  truly  hard  [to  decide], 
whether  we  perform  our  separate  acts  by  one  and  the 
same  power,  or  whether,  as  they  are  three,  we  per- 
form one  by  one,  and  another  by  another;  that  is, 
learn  by  one,  get  angry  by  another,  and  by  a  third 
covet  the  pleasures  of  nutrition  and  propagation,  and 
others  akin  to  these;  or  whether,  when  we  devote  our- 
selves to  them,  we  act  on  each  with  the  whole  soul: 
these  matters  are  difficult  adequately  to  determine.  I 
think  so,  too,  said  he.    Let  us  try  to  define  these  things, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


149 


whether  they  are  the  same  with  one  another,  or  differ- 
ent. How  can  we  ?  It  is  plain  that  the  same  thing 
evidently  cannot  at  the  same  time  produce  or  experi- 
ence contrary  effects  in  the  same  respect,  and  rela- 
tively to  the  same  object;  so  that,  if  we  ever  find 
anything  thus  occurring,  we  shall  know  that  it  was 
not  one  and  the  same  thing,  but  several.  Granted. 
Attend  now  to  what  I  am  saying.  Proceed,  replied 
he.  is  it  possible  for  the  same  thing,  considered  in 
the  same  relation,  to  be  both  at  rest  and  in  motion  ? 
By  no  means.  Let  us  define  this  more  accurately  still, 
lest,  as  we  proceed,  we  be  inclined  to  waver:  for,  if 
one  were  to  say  that,  when  a  man  stands,  though 
yet  moving  his  hands  and  head,  the  same  person  is 
at  once  still  and  in  motion;  we  should  not,  I  con- 
ceive, reckon  this  a  correct  mode  of  speaking,  but 
that  one  part  of  him  is  at  rest,  and  another  part  in 
motion :  is  it  not  so  ?  Just  so.  But  if  a  person  ar- 
guing thus  were  to  proceed  jestingly  and  facetiously 
allege  that  tops  are  wholly  at  rest,  but  yet  are  at  the 
same  time  in  motion,  when,  fixed  on  the  same  point, 
they  are  whirled  about  their  centre, —  or  that  anything 
else  going  round  in  a  circle  in  the  same  position  does 
the  same,— we  should  not  admit  it,  as  it  is  not  in  the 
same  respect  that  they  both  stand  still  and  are  in 
motion;  but  we  should  say  that  they  have  in  them 
the  straight  line  [z.  e.,  the  axis]  and  the  circumference; 
and  that,  with  relation  to  the  axis  they  are  at  rest 
(because  it  inclines  to  neither  side) ;  but  with  relation 
to  the  circumference,  they  move  in  a  circle:  and  again, 
if,  while  it  is  whirling  round,  its  perpendicularity  in- 
clines either  to  the  right  or  the  left,  forward  or  back- 
ward, then  it  is  by  no  means  at  rest.  Very  right, 
said  he.  No  assertion  then  of  this  kind  will  frighten 
us;  nor  shall  any  one  persuade  us,  that  anything, 
being  one  and  the  same,  can  do  and  suffer  contraries 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  in  the  same  respect,  and 
relatively  to  the  same  object.  Me,  at  any  rate,  he 
shall  not,  said  he.  But  once  more,  said  I,  not  to  be 
tedious  in  going  over  and  refuting  all  these  quibbles, 
let  us  proceed  on  the  supposition,  that   this   is  really 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


the  case,  acknowledging,  also,  that  if  at  any  time 
these  things  are  found  to  be  different  from  what  they 
now  are,  all  that  we  have  gained  will  be  lost.  This 
then,  said  he,  is  what  we  must  do. 

Chap.  XIV.  Well,  then, —  nodding  an  assent,  said  I, 
and  making  a  sign  of  dissent,  desiring  to  take  a  thing 
and  refusing  it,  attracting  or  repelling — will  you  reckon 
all  such  things  contraries,  respectively,  whether  actions 
or  passions ;  for  it  matters  not  which  ?  Contraries,  cer- 
tainly, said  he.  What,  then,  said  I, —  thirst,  hunger,  and 
the  desires  generally, —  and  further,  to  wish  and  to  will, 
may  not  all  these  be  considered  as  of  the  same  kind  with 
the  species  just  mentioned  ?  As,  for  instance,  will  you 
not  always  say  of  a  man  who  desires,  that  his  soul  aims 
after  what  it  desires,  or  attracts  to  itself  what  it  wishes 
to  have  ?  Or  again,  so  far  as  the  soul  wishes  something 
to  be  given  to  it,  does  it  not  make  a  sign  for  it,  as 
if  a  person  were  asking  for  it,  through  desire  of  acquiring 
its  possession?  I  should  say  so.  But  what?  —  to  be  un- 
willing, not  to  wish,  and  not  to  desire, —  shall  we  not 
deem  them  synonymous  with  repelling  and  driving  off 
from  the  soul,  and  so  all  things  else  that  are  contrary 
of  the  former  ?  Of  course.  This  being  the  case,  shall  we 
say  that  there  is  a  certain  species  of  desires,  and  that 
the  most  conspicuous  are  those  which  we  call  thirst  and 
hunger  ?  We  shall  say  so,  he  replied.  Is  not  one  the 
desire  of  drinking,  the  other  of  eating  ?  Yes.  In  the  case 
of  thirst,  then,  is  it,  so  far  as  it  is  thirst,  a  desire  in 
the  soul  of  any  thing  more  than  what  we  were  saying; 
and  as  far  as  thirst  goes, — is  there  a  thirst  for  hot  drink, 
or  cold,  for  much  or  little,  or  in  short,  for  some  particular 
kind  of  drink  ?  —  or  again,  if  heat  be  added  to  the  thirst, 
will  it  not  readily  occasion  a  desire  for  cold  drink ;  but  if 
cold  [be  added  to  it],  then  [a  desire]  for  warm  drink: 
and  if  the  thirst  be  great,  owing  to  numerous  causes,  will 
it  not  occasion  a  desire  for  much  drink,  but  if  small,  [a 
desire]  for  little ;  while  as  for  the  desire  of  thirst  itself, 
it  never  becomes  the  desire  of  anything  else,  but  of  that 
only  to  which  it  naturally  belongs,  —  and  so,  also,  of 
hunger,  with  reference  to  meat  ?    Just  so,  said  he,  every 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


'5' 


desire  belongs  in  itself  to  that  alone  of  which  it  is  the 
desire;  but  whether  they  be  desires  of  such  or  such  a 
particular  kind,  are  adventitious  circumstances.  Let  no 
one,  then,  said  I,  trouble  us,  as  if  we  were  inadvertent, 
[by  objecting  to  us]  that  no  one  desires  drink,  but  good 
drink, — nor  meat,  but  good  meat;  inasmuch  as  all  men 
desire  what  is  good.  If,  then,  thirst  be  a  desire,  it  is  one 
of  something  good;  whether  it  be  of  drink,  or  any  thing 
else  whatever, — and  in  the  same  way  with  all  the  other 
desires.  Aye,  perhaps,  replied  he,  the  man  who  says 
this  may  be  deemed  to  say  something  to  the  purpose. 
But  in  truth,  said  I,  things  naturally  relative,  refer  in 
each  particular,  as  I  think,  to  this  or  that  object,  to 
which  they  belong,  while  in  their  individual  character 
they  refer  only  to  themselves  individually.  I  do  not 
understand,  said  he.  Do  not  you  understand,  said  I, 
that  greater  is  relatively  greater  than  something  ?  Cer- 
tainly. Is  it  not  greater  than  the  lesser  ?  Yes.  And 
that  which  is  much  greater  than  that  which  is  much  less ;  is 
it  not  ?  Yes.  And  that  which  was  formerly  greater  than 
that  which  was  formerly  less,  and  that  which  is  to  be 
greater  than  that  which  is  to  be  less  ?  Of  course,  said  he. 
And  in  like  manner  the  more  numerous  has  reference  to 
the  less  numerous,  and  the  double  to  the  half,  and  so  in  all 
such-like  cases;  and  further,  the  heavier  to  the  lighter, 
and  the  swifter  to  the  slower;  and  further  still,  the  hot 
to  the  cold;  and  all  such  like,  are  they  not  thus  related  ? 
Entirely  so.  But  what  as  to  the  sciences;  is  not  the 
case  the  same  ?  —  for  science  itself  is  the  science  of  pure 
learning,  or  of  whatever  else  one  sees  fit  to  make  it  the 
science ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  a  certain  particular 
science,  of  a  particular  kind,  refers  to  a  certain  particular 
kind,  and  also  to  a  particular  object.  My  meaning  is  as 
follows:  when  the  science  of  building  houses  arose,  was 
it  not  so  far  separated  from  the  other  sciences  as  to  ac- 
quire the  name  of  architecture  ?  Of  course.  Was  it  not 
so  because  it  was  of  a  kind  like  none  else  ?  Yes.  Was 
it  not,  then,  from  its  being  the  art  of  such  a  particular 
thing,  that  it  became  itself  such  a  particular  art;  and 
are  not  all  other  arts  and  sciences  in  like  manner  ?  They 
are  so. 


152 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Chap.  XV.  Consider,  then,  said  I,  that  this  is  what  I 
wanted  to  express,  if  you  now  understand  me;  namely, 
that  things  which  are  relative,  taken  by  themselves  alone, 
relate  to  themselves  alone,  hut  considered  as  of  such  a 
quality,  relate  to  particular  objects.  I  do  not  say,  how- 
ever, that  a  science  altogether  resembles  that  of  which 
it  is  the  science ;  (as  if,  for  example,  the  science  of  healthy 
and  sickly  were  itself  healthy  and  sickly,  or  the  science 
of  good  and  evil  itself  good  and  evil) ;  but  as  science  is 
not  constituted  the  science  of  that  generally  of  which  it 
is  the  science,  but  only  of  a  certain  quality  of  it  (that  is, 
of  its  healthy  and  sickly  state),  so  it  comes  to  be  itself 
a  particular  science;  and  hence  it  is  no  longer  called 
simply  a  science,  but  the  medicinal  science,  the  particular 
class  to  which  it  belongs  being  superadded.  I  understand 
you,  said  he;  and  I  think  it  is  so.  As  for  thirst,  then, 
said  I,  will  you  not  class  it  among  those  things  which  have 
relation  to  something  else,  so  far  as  it  is  what  it  is  ?  and 
is  not  thirst  a  thirst  for  something  ?  I  should,  certainly, 
said  he,  for  drink.  And  does  not  a  particular  thirst  desire 
a  particular  drink?  —  whereas  thirst  in  general  is  neither 
of  much  nor  of  little,  nor  of  good  nor  bad,  nor,  in  one 
word,  of  any  particular  kind;  but  abstractly  and  in  gen- 
eral, the  natural  desire  of  drink.  Assuredly.  The  soul 
of  the  man,  then,  who  thirsts,  so  far  as  he  thirsts,  wishes 
nothing  further  than  to  drink;  and  this  he  covets,  and  to 
this  he  hurries  ?  Clearly  so.  If  therefore,  when  the  soul 
is  athirst,  anything  draws  it  back,  must  it  not  be  some 
different  principle  from  that  which  excites  thirst,  and 
leads  it  as  a  wild  beast  to  drink;  since  it  is  impossible, 
we  say,  for  the  same  thing,  by  itself,  and  at  the  same 
time,  to  produce  contrary  results  from  the  same  cause  ? 
It  is  indeed  impossible.  Just  as  it  is  not  proper,  methinks, 
to  say  of  an  archer,  that  his  hands  at  once  propel  and 
draw  in  the  bow,  but  that  one  of  his  hands  propels  it, 
and  the  other  draws  it  in  ?  Assuredly,  said  he.  Can 
we  say,  then,  that  there  are  some,  who  when  athirst  are 
not  willing  to  drink  ?  Certainly,  said  he,  many,  and  often. 
What  then,  said  I,  is  one  to  say  of  these  persons  ?  Might 
it  not  be  said,  that  there  is  something  in  their  soul  that 
prompts  them  to   drink,  and  likewise   something  that 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


153 


restrains  them,  quite  different,  and  that  prevails  over  the 
prompting  principle  ?  I  think  so,  said  he.  Does  not  the 
restraining  principle  then,  whenever  it  arises,  arise  from 
reason;  while  those  that  lead  and  urge  men  onward, 
proceed  from  affections  and  ailments  ?  It  appears  so.  We 
shall  not  then,  said  I,  be  unreasonable  in  defining  these 
as  distinctly  two,  and  separate  from  one  another,  if  we 
call  that  with  which  one  reasons,  the  rational  part  of  the 
soul,  but  that  part  with  which  it  loves,  and  hungers,  and 
thirsts,  and  is  carried  away  by  desires,  the  irrational  and 
concupiscent  part,  as  associated  with  certain  gratifications 
and  pleasures.  We  shall  not,  said  he ;  but  we  may  reason- 
ably regard  them  in  this  light.  Let  these  two  then,  said 
I,  be  defined  as  distinct  principles  in  the  soul.  But  as 
to  that  of  anger,  and  by  which  we  are  angry,  is  it  a  third 
principle,  or  is  it  of  like  nature  with  one  or  other  of  these 
two  ?  Perhaps,  said  he,  with  one  of  them,  the  concupis- 
cent. But  I  believe,  said  I,  what  I  have  somewhere  heard: 
Leontius,  son  of  Aglaion,  as  he  was  returning  from  the 
Piraeus,  along  the  outside  of  the  northern  wall,  perceiv- 
ing some  dead  bodies  lying  close  to  the  place  of  public 
punishment,  had  a  desire  to  look  at  them,  but  yet  at  the 
same  time  revolted  therefrom  and  turned  away;  and  for 
a  while  he  resisted,  and  covered  his  eyes,  but,  at  last, 
overcome  by  his  desire,  ran  with  eyes  wide  open  toward 
the  dead  bodies,  and  said :  "  Here  now,  ye  wretched  eyes 
of  mine!  glut  yourselves  with  this  fine  spectacle.'*  I  too 
have  heard  it,  said  he.  This  story  now  shows,  said  I, 
that  anger  sometimes  opposes  the  desires,  as  being  dis- 
tinct from  each  other.    Yes,  said  he,  it  does  show  it. 

Chap.  XVI.  Do  we  not  then  in  other  cases,  and  very 
frequently,  perceive,  said  I,  when  the  appetites  compel 
any  one  against  his  reason,  that  he  reproaches  himself, 
and  is  angry  at  the  compelling  principle  within  him ;  and 
that  like  two  persons  at  variance,  the  anger  of  such  a  per- 
son becomes  an  ally  to  reason ;  but  that  it  sides  with  the 
desires  when  reason  decides  that  no  opposition  is  to  be 
offered,  you  will  say,  I  think,  that  you  have  never  per- 
ceived anything  of  this  kind  either  in  yourself,  nor  yet  in 
any  other  ?    No,  by  Zeus,  replied  he.    What  then,  said  I, 


154 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


is  it  not  the  case,  when  a  man  imagines  he  is  doing  a 
wrong,  that  the  more  generous  he  is,  the  less  is  he  apt 
to  be  angry,  however  he  may  suffer  hunger  or  cold,  or 
other  like  privations,  from  one  who,  as  he  thinks,  inflicts 
them  with  justice  ?  And,  as  I  have  said,  his  anger  will 
not  incline  him  to  rise  up  against  such  an  one.  True, 
said  he.  But  what;  when  a  man  thinks  himself  injured 
does  he  not  in  this  case  boil  with  rage  and  become  in- 
dignant and  ally  himself  on  the  side  of  what  seems  just; 
and  under  all  the  sufferings  of  hunger,  cold,  and  the  like, 
does  he  not  bear  up  and  strive  to  conquer;  nor  does  he 
cease  from  his  generous  toils,  until  he  has  either  accom- 
plished them,  or  dies,  or,  like  a  dog  by  the  shepherd,  is 
called  off  and  pacified  by  the  rational  principle  within 
him  ?  Certainly,  said  he,  it  is  precisely  like  what  you  say, 
for,  in  our  state,  we  appointed  the  auxiliaries  to  be  obedi- 
ent, like  dogs,  to  the  state  rulers,  as  being  shepherds  of 
Ithe  state.  You  quite  understand,  said  I,  what  I  mean  to 
Bay :  but  have  you  considered  this  also  ?  What  ?  That 
here  apparently,  as  regards  the  irascible,  the  reverse  takes 
place  from  what  took  place  in  the  former  instance, —  for 
then  we  reckoned  it  the  same  as  the  concupiscent;  but 
now  we  say  it  is  far  from  it,  or  rather  that,  in  the  sedi- 
tion of  the  soul,  it  more  willingly  arrays  itself  on  the  side 
of  the  rational  part.  Entirely  so,  said  he.  Is  it  then  as 
something  entirely  distinct,  or  as  a  species  of  the  rational ; 
so  as  that  there  are  not  three  species,  but  only  two  in  the 
soul,  the  rational  and  concupiscent  ?  or,  as  there  were 
three  species  which  completed  the  city,  the  money-getting, 
the  auxiliary,  the  deliberative ;  so,  in  the  soul,  is  this 
irascible  a  third  natural  principle,  auxiliary  to  the  rational, 
when  not  corrupted  by  bad  education  ?  Of  course,  it  must, 
said  he,  be  a  third.  Yes,  said  I,  if  at  least  it  seem  at 
all  different  from  the  rational,  just  as  it  seemed  to  be  dis- 
tinct from  the  concupiscent.  Aye,  that  is  not  hard  to  see, 
said  he ;  and  as  a  proof  of  this,  one  may  see,  even  in 
little  children,  that  quite  from  their  infancy  they  are  full 
of  anger,  while  some  of  them,  at  least  in  my  opinion, 
never  have  any  share  in  reason,  the  majority  indeed  only 
arriving  at  it  but  late  in  life.  Aye,  truly,  said  I,  you  are 
right.    And  in  the  brute  beasts,  too,  one  may  observe  yet 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


155 


further,  that  what  you  say  is  really  the  case ;  and  besides 
this,  it  is  attested  also  by  what  we  formerly  cited  from 
Homer — 

His  breast  he  struck,  and  thus  his  heart  reproved; 

for,  in  this  passage.  Homer  has  plainly  made  one  part 
reprove  the  other;  that  part,  namely,  which  reasons  about 
good  and  evil,  to  reprove  the  part  which  is  unreasonably 
angry.    You  are  quite  right,  said  he. 

Chap.  XVII.  These  things,  said  I,  we  have  agreed  to 
after  some  difficitlty;  and  it  is  now  sufficiently  acknowl- 
edged, that  the  same  sort  of  principles  that  are  in  a 
state  reside  also  in  the  soul  of  every  individual,  and 
equal  in  number.  Must  it  not,  then,  necessarily  follow, 
that  in  whatever  manner  the  state  is  wise,  and  in  what- 
ever respect,  after  the  same  manner  and  in  the  same 
respect,  the  individual  is  so  also  ?  Of  course.  And  in 
whatever  respects,  and  after  whatever  manner,  the  indi- 
vidual is  brave,  in  the  same  respect,  and  after  the  same 
manner,  a  state  is  brave  also  ?  and  so  in  all  other 
respects,  both  are  the  same  as  regards  virtue  ?  Neces- 
sarily so.  And  I  think,  Glaucon,  it  may  be  said  that  a 
man  is  so  just  in  the  same  way  as  a  state  is  so.  This 
also  must  needs  be  the  case.  Aye;  but  have  we  not 
somehow  or  other  forgotten  this,  that  the  state  is  just, 
when  every  one  of  the  three  species  in  it  does  its  own 
particular  work  ?  No,  said  he,  I  do  not  think  we  have 
forgotten  that  point.  We  must  remember  then  likewise, 
that  each  of  us  will  be  just,  and  do  his  own  work,  each 
part  of  whose  soul  does  its  own  proper  duty.  Aye,  said 
he,  we  must  be  sure  to  recollect  that.  Is  it  not  proper, 
then,  that  the  rational  part  should  govern,  as  being 
wise,  and  charged  with  the  care  of  the  whole  soul ;  and 
that  the  spirited  part  should  obey  and  ally  itself  to  the 
other  ?  Certainly.  Will  not  the  mixture  then,  as  we 
said,  of  music  and  gymnastics,  make  the  two  to  har- 
monize by  exalting  and  nurturing  the  one  with  excel- 
lent arguments  and  good  discipline,  while  it  unbends 
the  other  by  soothing  and  rendering  it  mild  through 
harmony  and  rhythm  ?    Assuredly,  said  he.    And  when 


156 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


these  two  are  thus  nurtured  and  have  been  truly  taught 
and  practiced  in  their  own  affairs,  they  will  preside  over 
the  concupiscent  part,  which  in  every  one  occupies  the 
largest  part  of  the  soul,  and  by  its  nature  is  insatiable 
of  wealth ;  and  they  will  take  care,  lest,  having  acquired 
growth  and  strength  by  being  filled  with  bodily  pleas- 
ures, as  they  are  termed,  it  become  discontented  with  its 
own  work,  and  so  attempt  to  enslave  and  rule  over  those 
it  ought  not,  and  thus  wholly  upset  the  entire  system  of 
life.  Certainly,  said  he.  And  by  this  principle,  said  I, 
will  not  the  two  maintain  a  good  guard  against  enemies 
from  without,  owing  to  their  joint  influence  over ,  both 
soul  and  body,  the  one  laying  down  the  plans,  and  the 
other  fighting  in  obedience  to  its  leader,  and  executing 
with  fortitude  the  plans  laid  down  ?  Such  is  the  case. 
And  I  think  we  call  a  man  brave,  when,  through  all  the 
pains  and  pleasures  of  life,  the  spirit  maintains  the  opinion 
dictated  by  reason  about  what  is  terrible,  and  what  is  not 
so.  Right,  said  he.  And  we  call  a  man  wise,  from  that 
small  part  which  governs  him,  and  dictates  this,  inasmuch 
as  it  possesses  the  knowledge  of  what  is  expedient  for  eacll 
separately,  and  for  the  whole  of  the  three  togetherJR 
Certainly.  And,  do  we  not  moreover  term  a  man  tem- 
perate, from  the  association  and  harmony  of  these  very 
principles,  when  the  governing  and  governed  agree  ii^ 
one, — namely,  when  reason  governs,  and  when  the  others^ 
are  not  at  variance  therewith  ?  Temperance,  said  he,  is 
no  other  than  this,  either  as  respects  the  state  or  the  in- 
dividual. But  he  will  be  just,  owing  to  those  causes  and 
in  the  manner  which  we  have  often  before  mentioned  ? 
He  must.  What  then,  said  I;  has  anything  blunted  us, 
that  we  should  regard  justice  as  anything  else  than  what 
it  is  seen  to  be  in  a  state  ?  Not  in  my  opinion  at  least, 
said  he.  In  this  manner  then  (if  there  yet  remain  any 
doubt  in  the  soul),  let  us,  by  all  means,  satisfy  ourselves 
by  bringing  the  man  into  difficult  circumstances.  As 
what  ?  For  instance,  if  we  be  compelled  to  declare,  con- 
cerning such  a  state  and  a  man  bom  and  educated  con- 
formably thereto,  whether  such  a  man,  if  intrusted  with 
gold  or  silver,  is  likely  to  embezzle  it, —  who  do  you 
think  would  imagine,  that  such  an  one  would  do  it  sooner 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


than  those  of  a  diflferent  character  ?  No  one  would,  said 
he.  Will  not  such  an  one  then  be  free  from  sacrileges, 
thefts,  and  treacheries,  either  privately  against  his  friends, 
or  publicly  against  the  state  ?  He  will.  Nor  will  he  ever, 
in  any  shape,  be  faithless,  either  as  to  his  oaths,  or  other 
compacts  ?  How  should  he.  Adulteries,  neglect  of  par- 
ents, and  impiety  against  the  gods,  will  be  found  then 
in  any  one  rather  than  such  a  man  as  this  ?  Aye,  in  any 
one  else,  truly,  said  he.  And  is  not  this  the  cause  of  all 
these  things, —  that,  of  all  the  parts  within  him  each 
separate  one  does  its  own  work,  as  to  governing  and 
being  governed  ?  This  is  it,  and  nothing  else.  What 
else  do  you  wish  justice  to  be,  except  such  a  power  as 
produces  men  and  states  like  these  ?  Not  I,  truly,  said 
he,  for  my  part. 

Chap.  XVIII.  Our  dream  then,  which  we  conjectured, 
is  at  last  accomplished ;  that  on  our  very  first  attempt  to 
found  our  state  we  have  apparently  arrived  by  divine 
assistance  at  a  principle  and  pattern  of  justice  ?  Quite 
so.  And  that,  Glaucon,  was  a  certain  image  of  justice, 
that  the  man  naturally  fitted  for  the  office  of  a  shoemaker, 
should  make  shoes  properly,  and  do  nothing  else;  and 
that  he  also,  who  is  a  carpenter,  should  do  that  work, — 
and  so  also,  of  the  rest.  It  appears  so.  In  truth,  then, 
of  such  a  kind  was  justice,  as  it  seems;  nor  does  it  re- 
gard merely  a  man's  external  action,  but  what  is  really 
internal,  relating  to  the  man  himself,  and  what  is  prop- 
erly his  own ;  not  allowing  any  principle  in  him  to  attempt 
what  is  another's  province,  or  to  meddle  and  interfere 
with  what  does  not  belong  to  it;  but  really  well  estab- 
lishing his  own  proper  affairs,  and  maintaining  proper 
self-government,  keeping  due  order,  becoming  his  own 
friend,  and  most  naturally  attuning  these  three  principles, 
as  three  musical  strings,  base,  tenor,  and  treble,  or  what- 
ever others  may  intervene:  thus  will  he  be  led  to  com- 
bine all  these  together,  and  out  of  many  to  form  one  whole, 
temperate,  attuned,  and  able  to  perform  whatever  is  to  be 
done,  either  in  acquiring  wealth,  or  managing  the  body, 
or  any  public  affair  or  private  bargain,  and  in  all  these 
cases  reckoning  that  action  to  be  just  and  good,  which 


158 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


always  sustains  and  promotes  this  habit ;  and  so  also  call- 
ing the  knowledge  which  presides  over  this  action  wisdom, 
—  and  on  the  contrary,  calling  that  an  unjust  action,  which 
destroys  this  habit, — and  the  opinion  which  presides  over 
this,  folly.  Perfectly  true^  Socrates,  said  he.  Be  it  so, 
said  I:  If  then  we  should  say,  that  we  have  found  out 
a  just  man  and  state,  and  the  nature  of  justice  in  both, 
I  think  we  should  not  be  considered  altogether  in  error. 
No,  by  Zeus,  said  he.  May  we  assume  it,  then  ?  We 
may. 

Chap.  XIX.  Be  it  so,  said  I.  But  we  were  next,  I 
think,  to  consider  injustice  ?  Clearly  so.  Is  it  not  then 
necessarily  a  kind  of  variance  between  the  three  princi- 
ples, a  kind  of  meddling  and  interfering  spirit  in  things 
foreign  to  their  proper  business,  and  an  insurrection  of 
some  one  principle  against  the  whole  soul,  to  govern 
where  it  is  not  its  province,  though  it  be  really  of  such 
a  nature,  that  it  ought  to  be  in  subjection  to  the  govern- 
ing principle  ?  I  imagine  then  we  are  to  call  this  tumult 
and  error  by  some  such  names  as  these, — injustice,  in- 
temperance, cowardice,  folly,  and  in  a  word,  all  vices  ? 
Just  so,  said  he.  To  commit  injustice  then,  said  I,  and 
to  be  injurious,  and  likewise  to  act  justly,  all  these  must 
be  very  manifest,  if  indeed  injustice  and  justice  are  so. 
How  ?  Because,  said  I,  they  do  not  differ  from  what  is 
salutary  or  noxious;  as  the  latter  are  in  the  body,  so 
are  the  former  in  the  soul.  In  what  way  ?  said  he.  Such 
things  as  are  healthy  produce  health,  and  such  as  are 
noxious,  disease.  Yes.  And  does  not  acting  justly  pro- 
duce justice, —  and  acting  unjustly,  injustice  ?  Necessarily 
so.  To  produce  health,  however,  is  to  establish  every- 
thing in  the  body,  so  that  they  shall  mutually  govern  and 
be  governed,  conformably  to  nature, — while  the  production 
of  disease,  on  the  other  hand,  consists  in  one  part  govern- 
ing and  being  governed,  by  another  contrary  to  nature.  It 
is  indeed.  Then  again,  said  I,  to  pr-oduce  justice,  is  it  not 
to  establish  all  in  the  soul,  so  that  its  parts  shall  mutu- 
ally govern  and  be  governed  according  to  nature;  and 
does  not  injustice  consist  in  governing  and  being  gov- 
erned by  one  another  contrary  to  nature  ?    Plainly  so,  said 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


he.  Virtue  then,  as  it  seems,  is  a  kind  of  health,  beauty, 
and  good  habit  of  the  soul ;  and  vice  its  disease,  deformity, 
and  infirmity  ?  It  is  so.  Do  not  honorable  pursuits  then 
lead  to  the  attainment  of  virtue,  but  dishonorable  to  that 
of  vice  ?  They  must.  What  remains  for  us  to  consider 
then  is, —  whether  it  be  profitable  to  act  justly,  and 
pursue  what  is  honorable,  and  to  be  just  and  whether 
a  man  can  be  of  such  a  character  unconsciously  or 
not;  or  to  act  unjustly,  and  to  be  unjust,  though 
one  be  never  punished,  or  reformed  by  correction  ? 
But,  said  he,  Socrates,  this  inquiry  seems,  to  me  at 
least,  quite  ridiculous;  that  if  in  a  corrupt  state  of 
the  body  life  be  deemed  not  worth  possession,  not 
even  though  accompanied  by  all  kinds  of  meats  and 
drinks,  and  all  wealth  and  power,  yet  when  the  nature 
of  the  vital  principle  is  disordered  and  thoroughly  cor- 
rupted, life  will  then  be  worth  having,  though  a  man 
were  to  do  everything  else  that  he  likes,  except  ascer- 
taining how  he  shall  get  released  from  vice  and  injustice, 
and  cultivate  justice  and  virtue, —  since  both  these  things 
have  been  proved  such  as  we  have  represented  them. 
Aye,  it  would  be  truly  ridiculous,  said  I.  However, 
since  we  have  arrived  at  such  a  point  as  enables  us  most 
distinctly  to  perceive  that  these  things  are  so,  we  must 
not  get  weary.  On  no  account,  by  Zeus,  said  he,  must 
we  be  weary.  Come  then,  said  I,  and  let  us  see  also 
how  many  principles  vice  possesses, —  principles  indeed 
that  are  worthy  of  attention.  I  am  all  attention,  said 
he;  only  tell  me.  And  truly  now,  said  I;  since  we 
have  reached  this  part  of  our  discourse,  it  appears  to  me, 
as  to  one  looking  from  a  height,  that  there  is  but  one 
principle  of  virtue,  while  those  of  vice  are  infinite:  and 
of  these  there  are  four,  particularly  deserving  of  mention. 
How  say  you  ?  replied  he.  There  seems  to  be  as  many 
classes  of  the  soul  as  there  are  forms  of  government. 
How  many  then  ?  Five,  said  I,  of  governments,  and  five 
of  the  soul.  Name  them,  said  he.  What  we  have  just 
described,  replied  I,  is  one  species  of  government;  and 
it  may  have  a  twofold  appellation;  for,  if  among  the 
rulers  one  prevails  over  the  rest,  it  may  be  termed  a 
Monarchy, — but   if    there  be    several,    an  Aristocracy. 


i6o 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


True,  said  he.  I  call  this  then,  said  I,  one  species; 
for  whether  there  be  several,  or  whether  it  be  but 
one  who  governs,  they  will  never  alter  the  principal 
laws  of  the  state, —  because  they  will  observe  the  na- 
ture and  education  we  have  described.  It  is  not  likely, 
said  he. 


BOOK  V. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  FIFTH  BOOK  he  shows  how  the  magistracy  is  to  be  constituted,  so 
as  to  establish  a  prosperous  state.  True  philosophy,  says  he,  is  its 
basis ;  and  this,  so  far  from  being  superficial  and  affecting  only  the 
outward  bearing  and  life  of  the  citizens,  turns  the  mind  away  from 
all  these  fleeting  subjects  to  that  which  is  real,  positive,  and  con- 
sistent with  the  knowledge  of  God.  Carrying  the  subject  somewhat 
back,  therefore,  he  considers  in  detail  the  subject  matter  of  philos- 
ophy, proving  that  it  is  the  knowledge  both  of  virtue  and  of  God, 
both  of  which  are  indispensable  to  a  well-ordered  state,  in  which 
either  philosophers  must  be  rulers  or  vice  versa.  As  however  he  had 
said  in  the  third  book,  that  a  state's  welfare  depended  on  the  com- 
munity of  ideas  and  of  property,  he  now  shows  in  detail,  how  the 
duties  of  men  and  women  are  common  in  a  state,  and  how  conse- 
quently themselves  and  their  property  too  should  be  common, —  a  notion 
which  Aristotle  rather  severely  handles  in  the  second  book  of  the 
«  Politics  »  (ch.  3),  where  he  says,  that,  though  the  state  be  one,  but  with 
this  restriction,  that  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  to  different  men 
belong  different  dispositions,  and  if  evrafia  is  gently  to  be  maintained, 
we  must  specially  guard  against  confusion  and  unnecessary  interfer- 
ence, the  certain  means  of  downfall  to  a  state. 

Chapter  I.  Such  a  state  and  government  then,  and 
such  a  man  as  we  have  described,  I  term  good  and  up- 
right: and  if  this  government  be  an  upright  one,  I  reckon 
the  others  bad  and  erroneous,  both  as  to  the  regnlations  in 
states,  and  the  establishment  of  the  moral  nature  in 
individuals,  inasmuch  as  there  are  four  species  of  deprav- 
ity.* Of  what  kind  are  these  ?  said  he.  I  was  about  to 
mention  them  in  order,  as  they  each  appeared  to  me  to 
rise  one  out  of  another;  but  Polemarchus  stretching  out 
his  hand — (for  he  sat  a  little  further  off  than  Adimantus). 
—  caught  him  by  the  robe  at  his  shoulder,  and  drew  him 
near ;  and,  bending  toward  him,  he  spoke  something  in  a 

*  The  argument  here  interrupted  respecting  the  four  kinds  of  de- 
pravity, individually  or  in  states,  is  resumed  at  the  commencement  of 
the  eighth  book. 

II  (I6l) 


l62 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


whisper,  of  which  we  heard  nothing  but  this:  Shall  we 
let  that  pass,  then  ?  said  he,  or  what  shall  we  do  ?  By 
no  means,  said  Adimantus,  now  speaking  aloud.  And  I 
replied,  What  will  not  you  let  pass  ?  You,  indeed,  said  he : 
for  it  was  to  you  I  alluded.  You  seem  to  us  to  be  get- 
ting careless  and  to  be  stealing  through  a  whole  branch 
of  the  discourse,  and  that  not  the  least  important,  that 
you  may  not  have  the  trouble  of  going  through  it ;  and  you 
think  you  escaped  our  notice,  when  you  made  this  speech 
so  simply,  viz.,  that  it  is  clear  to  every  one  both  as  to 
wives  and  children,  that  whatever  belongs  to  friends  will 
be  common.  Did  not  I  say  right,  Adimantus  ?  Yes, 
said  he :  but  this,  which  was  rightly  said,  like  the  rest  of 
your  discourse,  requires  explanation;  namely,  to  show 
what  is  the  mode  of  that  community;  for  there  must  be 
many:  do  not  omit  saying  then  which  mode  you  mean; 
for  we  have  been  expecting  it  for  some  time  past,  think- 
ing you  would,  some  time  or  other,  speak  of  the  propa- 
gation of  children,  how  they  are  to  be  propagated;  and 
when  born,  how  they  should  be  brought  up,  and  every- 
thing relating  to  this  community  that  you  were  mentioning 
both  of  wives  and  children ;  for  we  suppose  it  to  be  of 
great,  nay — paramount  importance  to  the  state,  whether 
this  be  rightly  performed  or  not.  Now  then,  since  you 
are  taking  in  hand  another  kind  of  state-government 
before  you  have  sufficiently  discussed  this,  we  have  deter- 
mined, as  you  just  heard,  not  to  let  you  pass,  without 
going  over  all  these  things,  as  you  did  the  others.  And 
me  too  you  may  reckon,  said  Glaucon,  as  joining  in  this 
vote.  Be  quite  sure,  Socrates,  said  Thrasymachus,  that 
this  is  the  opinion  of  us  all. 

Chap.  II.  What  have  you  done,  said  I,  in  seizing 
me  thus  ?  What  a  mighty  talk  is  this  you  are  again 
raising,  as  you  did  at  the  beginning,  about  your  republic, 
which  I  was  so  glad  at  having  completely  described, 
pleased  [to  think]  that  any  one  would  let  these  things 
pass,  and  admit  what  was  then  said!  And  as  to  what 
you  now  challenge  me  to,  you  know  not  what  a  swarm 
of  disputes  you  are  stirring  up:  I  foresaw  them,  and 
let  them  pass  at  that  time,  for  fear  of  making  a  great 


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163 


disturbance.  What,  then,  said  Thrasymachus,  think  you 
that  these  are  now  come  hither  to  melt  gold,  and  not 
to  hear  reasonings  ?  Aye,  said  I,  but  in  moderation. 
As  for  moderation,  Socrates,  said  Glaucon,  the  whole  of 
life  serves  for  hearing  such  reasonings  as  these:  but 
let  pass  what  relates  to  us;  and  as  to  what  we  are 
inquiring,  do  not  begrudge  explaining  what  you  think 
about  it,  —  what  sort  of  community  of  wives  and  children 
is  to  be  observed  by  our  guardians,  and  how  the  latter 
ought  to  be  reared  while  very  young,  in  the  period 
between  their  birth  and  their  education,  which  seems  to 
be  the  most  troublesome  of  all.  Try  and  tell  us  now, 
how  that  is  to  be  accomplished.  It  is  not  easy,  my  good 
fellow,  said  I,  to  describe  them;  for  many  of  them  are 
very  hard  to  be  believed,  even  more  than  those  we  have 
before  described;  for  even  their  possibility  we  might 
well  disbelieve;  and  even  were  they  possible,  one  might 
still  doubt,  whether  they  would  best  be  done  in  this 
particular  way:  on  this  account,  my  dear  friend,  I 
somewhat  hesitate  to  touch  on  these  topics,  lest  our 
reasoning  appear  to  be  a  mere  wish,  rather  than  abso- 
lute reality.  Do  not  hesitate  now,  said  he;  for  your 
hearers  are  neither  unreasonable,  nor  incredulous,  nor 
ill-disposed.  Now,  my  very  good  Glaucon,  said  I,  is  it 
with  the  desire  of  reassuring  me,  that  you  say  this  ?  I 
do,  said  he.  Then  you  have  produced  quite  a  contrary 
effect,  said  I ;  for  could  I  trust  to  myself,  that  I  thoroughly 
know  what  I  am  to  say,  your  encouragement  would 
have  been  quite  right;  for  among  intelligent  and  friendly 
persons,  one  who  understands  the  truth,  may  speak  with 
safety  and  confidence  about  the  most  important  matters; 
but  when  one  speaks,  as  of  course  I  do,  with  diffidence 
and  a  sort  of  searching  spirit,  there  is  both  fear  and 
danger,  not  only  of  being  exposed  to  ridicule  (for  that 
is  but  a  trifling  thing),  but  lest,  mistaking  the  truth,  I 
not  only  fall  myself,  but  draw  my  friends  along  with 
me  into  an  error  about  matters,  in  which  we  ought  least 
of  all  to  be  mistaken.    I  conjure  Adrasteia,*  therefore, 

*  Adrasteia  or  Nemesis  was  a  daughter  of  Zeus,  and  regarded  as 
the  punisher  of  murderers  and  homicides, —  even  those  involuntarily  so. 
See  Bloomfield's  note  to  .iEschyl.  Prom.  v.  972. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Glaucon,  with  respect  to  what  I  am  going  to  say:  For 
I  hope  it  is  a  smaller  offense  to  be  unintentionally  a 
murderer,  than  an  impostor  about  what  is  good  and 
excellent,  just  and  lawful:  and  as  for  this  risk,  it  were 
better  to  risk  it  among  enemies  than  friends;  so  that 
you  are  not  giving  me  proper  encouragement.  Then, 
said  Glaucon,  laughing:  Aye,  but  Socrates,  even  if  we 
should  suffer  aught  amiss  from  your  discourse,  we 
acquit  you  as  clear  of  homicide,  and  as  no  impostor:  so 
proceed  boldly.  But  the  man,  said  I,  who  is  acquitted 
in  a  court  of  justice  is,  at  any  rate,  deemed  clear  of 
the  crime,  as  the  law  says;  and  if  it  be  so  in  that  case, 
it  should  be  so  in  this.  As  respects  this,  then,  said  he, 
pray  proceed.  We  must  now,  said  I,  once  more  return 
to  what  perhaps  in  strict  order  should  have  been  con- 
sidered before;  and  thus  perhaps  it  would  be  correct, 
after  having  entirely  completed  the  men's  part,  to  com- 
plete also  the  women's;  especially  since  you  challenge  me 
to  do  so. 

Chap.  IIL  Men  who  have  been  born  and  educated  as 
we  have  described,  cannot,  in  my  opinion,  otherwise 
rightly  acquire  and  employ  their  wives  and  children  than 
by  following  the  same  track,  in  which  we  have  proceeded 
from  the  beginning :  for  we  surely  undertook,  in  our  argu- 
ment, to  represent  men  as  the  guardians  of  a  flock.  Yes. 
Let  us  proceed,  then,  to  give  the  children  a  corresponding 
birth  and  education;  and  let  us  consider,  whether  it  be 
proper  for  us  or  not.  How  ?  replied  he.  Thus :  Are  we 
to  reckon  it  proper  for  the  females  among  our  guardian 
dogs  to  watch  and  hunt,  and  do  every  thing  else  in  com- 
mon with  the  males ;  or  rather  to  manage  domestic  affairs 
■within  doors,  as  being  disabled  from  other  exercises  on 
account  of  bearing  and  nursing  the  whelps,  while  the 
males  are  to  labor  and  take  the  entire  charge  of  the 
flock  ?  All  in  common,  said  he ;  except  that  we  employ 
the  females  as  the  weaker,  and  the  males  as  the  stronger. 
Is  it  possible,  then,  said  I,  to  employ  an  animal  for  the 
same  purposes  [with  another],  without  giving  it  the  same 
nurture  and  education  ?  It  is  not  possible.  If,  therefore, 
we  are  to  employ  the  women  for  the  same  purposes  as  the 


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men,  must  we  not  give  them  also  the  same  kind  of  instruc- 
tion ?  Yes.  Were  both  music  and  gymnastics  bestowed 
on  the  males  ?  Yes.  To  the  women  too,  then,  we  must 
impart  these  two  arts,  and  those  likewise  that  refer  to 
war;  and  we  must  employ  them  in  the  same  manner.  It 
is  probable  from  what  you  say,  said  he.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, said  I,  many  things,  concerning  what  we  are  now 
speaking,  may  appear  ridiculous,  because  contrary  to  cus- 
tom,—  if  they  shall  be  practiced  in  the  way  now  men- 
tioned. Quite  so,  replied  he.  But  which  of  them,  said  I, 
do  you  conceive  to  be  the  most  ridiculous  ?  Would  it  not 
clearly  be  to  behold  the  women  naked  in  the  palaestra 
wrestling  with  the  men,  and  not  only  the  young  women, 
but  even  those  more  advanced  in  years,  just  like  the  old 
men  in  the  wrestling  "schools,  who  are  still  fond  of  the 
exercises,  though  wrinkled,  and  not  at  all  comely  to  the 
eye  ?  Aye,  by  Zeus,  said  he ;  it  would  appear  truly  ridic- 
ulous, as  present  fashions  go.  Ought  we  not,  then,  said  I, 
since  we  have  entered  on  this  discourse,  to  fear  the  raillery 
of  wits,  which  they  would  probably  bestow  pretty  abun- 
dantly on  such  innovations  [as  respects  exercising  the 
women]  in  gymnastics,  music,  and  more  especially  in  the 
use  of  arms,  and  the  management  of  horses  ?  You  say 
right,  he  replied.  But  since  we  have  entered  on  this  dis- 
course, let  us  go  to  the  rigor  of  the  law,  and  beg-  these 
men  not  to  be  the  slaves  of  prejudice,  but  to  think  seri- 
ously, and  remember,  that  not  long  since  the  sight  of 
naked  men  appeared  base  and  disgusting  to  the  Greeks, 
just  as  now,  indeed,  it  does  to  most  of  the  barbarians :  and 
when  first  the  Cretans,  and  afterward  the  Lacedaemoni- 
ans, began  their  exercises,  the  wits  of  that  day  might 
have  made  a  jest  of  all  this :  do  not  you  think  so  ?  I  do. 
But,  methinks,  when  those  experienced  in  the  art  thought 
it  better  to  strip  themselves,  than  to  cover  up  such  parts, 
the  merely  apparent  ridiculousness  of  the  thing  is  set  aside 
by  the  advantage  stated  in  our  reasoning;  and  this,  too, 
manifestly  shows  that  the  man  is  a  fool  who  deems  any- 
thing ridiculous  except  what  is  bad,  and  tries  to  run  down 
as  ridiculous  any  other  idea  but  that  of  the  foolish  and 
the  vicious,  or  employs  himself  seriously  with  any  other 
end  in  view  but  that  of  the  good.     Assuredly,  said  he. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Chap.  IV.  Must  we  not  then,  first  of  all,  agree  on 
this, — whether  these  things  be  possible  or  not;  and  set 
forth  a  question,  whether  any  one,  either  in  jest  or 
earnest,  can  doubt,  if  the  human  nature  in  the  female 
can  in  all  cases  share  with  the  male,  or  in  no  case  share 
at  all;  or  in  some  cases,  but  not  in  others;  and  this,  too, 
with  reference  to  what  concerns  war  ?  Would  not  the 
man  who  thus  sets  out  so  also  probably  conclude  ?  Cer- 
tainly, said  he.  Do  you  wish,  then,  said  I,  that  we  should 
argue  against  ourselves  about  these  things,  in  order  that 
the  opposite  side  may  not,  if  attacked,  be  destitute  of  de- 
fense ?  Nothing  hinders,  said  he.  Let  us,  then,  say  this 
for  them:  There  is  no  need,  Socrates  and  Glaucon,  for 
others  to  dispute  with  you  about  this  matter;  for  your- 
selves, in  first  establishing  your  state,  agreed  that  each 
individual  ought  to  practice  one  business,  according  to  his 
particular  talent.  We  did  so  agree,  I  think ;  for  how  could 
we  do  otherwise  ?  Does  not,  then,  the  nature  of  a  woman 
differ  widely  from  that  of  a  man  ?  Of  course  it  differs. 
And  is  it  not  right  to  allot  to  each  a  different  work,  ac- 
cording to  the  nature  of  each  ?  Of  course.  Are  not  you 
in  the  wrong,  then,  and  do  you  not  contradict  yourselves, 
in  saying  that  men  and  women  ought  to  do  the  same 
things,  with  natures  so  widely  different  ?  Have  you  any 
answer  to  make  against  this,  my  clever  Glaucon  ?  To  do 
so  on  the  moment  is  no  such  easy  matter,  said  he ;  but 
I  will  entreat  you,  and  I  do  so  now,  to  unravel  the  argu- 
ments on  our  side,  whatever  they  may  be.  These, 
Glaucon,  replied  I,  and  many  other  such  things,  are 
what  I  long  ago  foresaw;  and  I  was  both  afraid  and  un- 
willing to  touch  on  the  law  concerning  the  possession  of 
wives  and  the  education  of  children.  No,  by  Zeus,  replied 
he,  it  seems  no  easy  matter.  Certainly  not,  said  L  The 
case,  however,  is  thiis:  If  a  man  fall  into  a  small  fish 
pond,  or  quite  into  the  ocean  itself,  still  he  has  to 
swim  no  less.  Certainly.  Let  us  too,  then,  swim,  and 
try  to  escape  from  this  argument,  expecting  that  either 
some  dolphin  will  rescue  us,  or  that  we  shall  have  some 
other  remarkable  deliverance  ?  It  seems  we  ought,  replied 
he.  Come  then,  said  I ;  let  us  see,  if  we  can  anywhere 
find  an  outlet ;  for  M'e  acknowledg-ed  that  different  natures 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


167 


ought  to  study  different  things,  and  that  the  natures  of  a 
woman  and  a  man  are  different;  yet  now  we  say,  that  dif- 
ferent natures  ought  to  study  the  same  things:  do  you 
accuse  us  of  this  ?  Just  so.  How  admirable,  Glaucon,  said 
I,  is  the  power  of  the  art  of  disputing  !  How  ?  Because, 
replied  I,  many  seem  to  fall  into  it  unwillingly,  suppos- 
ing that  they  are  not  cavilling,  but  reasoning  truly,  owing 
to  their  inability  to  divide  a  subject  rightly  and  investi- 
gate it  according  to  its  species;  but  following  the  literal 
sense,  they  pursue  what  is  quite  contradictory  to  their 
subject,  making  use  of  cavilling  instead  of  argument. 
This  is  indeed  the  case  with  many,  said  he ;  but  does  that 
extend  likewise  to  us  in  the  present  instance  ?  Quite  so, 
said  I ;  for  I  think,  that  without  meaning  it,  we  have  fallen 
into  a  contradiction.  How  ?  Because  we  have  very  boldly 
and  disputatiously  asserted,  that  unless  persons'  natures 
are  the  same,  they  ought  not  to  have  the  same  employ- 
ments ;  though  we  have  not  at  all  inquired  the  sort  of  dif- 
ference and  identity  of  the  nature  [  here  referred  to],  and 
with  reference  to  which  we  defined  them,  when  we  ascribed 
different  piirsuits  to  different  natures,  and  to  the  same 
natures  the  same  pursuits.  No  certainly,  said  he,  we  did 
not  consider  that.  It  would  seem  then,  replied  I,  that  we 
may  still  ask  ourselves  the  question,  whether  the  nature 
of  the  bald  and  those  who  wear  hair  be  the  same  and  not 
different;  and  if  we  agree  that  it  be  different,  whether, 
if  the  bald  made  shoes,  we  should  let  those  who  wear  hair 
make  them ;  or  if  again,  those  who  wear  hair  [  made 
them,  whether  we  should  allow  ]  the  others  [  to  do  so 
likewise]  ?  That  were  ridiculous,  replied  he.  Is  it  then 
ridiculous,  said  I,  for  any  other  reason  than  that  we  did 
not  then  in  general  define  the  sameness  and  diversity  of 
natures,  but  observed  only  that  species  of  diversity  and 
sameness,  which  respects  their  peculiar  functions,  just  as 
we  say  that  a  physician,  and  a  man  who  has  a  genius  for 
being  a  physician,  have  one  and  the  same  nature  ?  Do 
not  you  think  so  ?  I  do.  But  have  the  physician  and  the 
carpenter  a  different  [  nature  ]  ?    Most  assuredly. 

Chap.  V.  In  that  case,  said  I,  as  regards  the  natures 
of  men   and    women,  if    they    appear   different,  with 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


respect  to  any  art,  or  other  employment,  we  are  supposed 
to  assign  to  each  separately  his  proper  employment: 
but  if  it  appear  to  differ  only  in  this, — namely,  that  the 
female  bears  children,  and  the  male  begets  them, — we 
must  not  say  that  it  has  at  all  as  yet  been  proved  that  a 
man  differs  from  a  woman  in  the  sense  of  which  we  are 
speaking,  and  we  must  still  think,  that  both  our  guar- 
dians and  their  wives  may  pursue  the  same  employments. 
And  with  reason,  said  he.  After  this,  then,  should  we 
not  require  any  one  who  says  the  contrary,  to  inform  us 
on  this  point, —  what  is  that  art  or  function  in  the  arrange- 
ments of  a  state,  where  the  nature  of  a  man  and  woman 
is  not  the  same,  but  different  ?  A  reasonable  demand, 
too.  Perhaps  then  some  one  may  reply,  as  you  said  some 
time  since,  that  it  is  not  easy  all  at  once  to  explain  this 
sufficiently,  but  yet  no  hard  matter  for  one  who  has  con- 
sidered it  ?  Yes, — one  might  well  say  so.  Do  you  wish 
then,  that  we  should  request  such  an  opponent  to  follow 
us,  while  we  try  to  show  him,  that  there  is  no  function 
peculiar  to  a  woman  in  the  management  of  a  state  ?  By 
all  means.  Come  then  (we  will  say  to  him),  answer  us: 
did  you  not  mean  that  one  man  has  a  natural  talent  for 
anything,  and  another  not,  in  this  respect, —  namely,  that 
one  learns  a  thing  easily,  and  another  with  difficulty-, 
and  one  with  a  little  instruction  discovers  much  in  what 
he  learns,  while  another,  after  much  instruction  and  care, 
does  not  retain  even  what  he  has  learned ;  and  that  with 
the  one,  the  body  is  duly  subservient  to  the  mind ;  while 
in  the  other  it  is  opposed  to  it  ?  Well  and  what  other 
marks  are  there  besides  these,  by  which  you  would  dis- 
tinguish a  man  that  has  particular  talents  from  him  that 
has  none  at  all  ?  One  cannot  mention  any  other,  said  he. 
Know  you  then  of  any  function  performed  by  mankind, 
in  which  the  males  have  not  all  these  characteristics  in  a 
superior  degree  to  the  females;  and  would  it  not  be 
tedious  to  specify  particularly  the  weaving  art,  and  the 
making  of  pastry  and  spice-meats,  for  which  female  talents 
seem  to  have  some  repute,  and  cannot  be  surpassed  with- 
out the  greatest  disgrace  ?  You  are  right,  said  he,  in  say- 
ing that  in  all  things  universally  the  talent  of  the  one  is 
superior  to    that  of  the   other;   yet  many  women  are 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


superior  in  many  respects  to  many  men ;  though,  on  the 
whole,  it  is  as  you  say.  There  is  no  function,  my  friend, 
then,  among  the  entire  members  of  our  state  that  is 
peculiar  to  woman,  considered  as  such,  nor  to  man,  con- 
sidered as  such;  but  natural  talents  are  indiscriminately 
diffused  through  both,  and  the  woman  naturally  shares  in 
all  offices,  the  same  as  the  man,  though  in  all  cases  the 
woman  is  weaker  than  the  man.  Certainly.  Are  we  then 
to  commit  all  [state  concerns]  to  the  men,  and  none  to 
the  women  ?  How  should  we  ?  It  is  true  then,  I  think 
(as  we  say),  that  one  woman  too  is  fitted  for  being  a 
physician,  and  another  not  so;  one  is  musical,  another 
by  nature  unmusical.  How  otherwise  ?  And  is  one  fitted 
for  gymnastics  and  warlike, — another  not  fitted  either  for 
war  or  gymnastics  ?  That  is  my  opinion  too.  And  what : 
is  not  one  a  lover  of  philosophy,  and  another  averse  to  it  ; 
and  one  high-spirited,  and  another  timid?  This  is  true, 
too.  And  is  not  one  woman  naturally  suited  for  being  a 
guardian,  and  another  not  so;  and  have  we  not  made 
choice  of  such  a  talent  as  this  for  our  guardian  men  ? 
Yes — just  of  such  as  this.  The  nature  then  of  the  woman 
and  of  the  man,  as  respects  the  guardianship  of  the  state, 
is  the  same, —  only  that  the  one  is  weaker,  the  other 
stronger.    So  it  seems. 

Chap.  VI.  Women  such  as  these  then  are  to  be  chosen 
to  dwell  with  such  men,  and  to  be  their  fellow-guardians, 
— inasmuch  as  they  are  naturally  suited  for  them,  and  of 
kindred  talents.  Certainly.  And  must  not  the  same  em- 
ployments be  assigned  to  the  same  natures  ?  The  same. 
We  have  now  got  round  then,  to  our  former  point ;  and,  we 
allow  that  it  is  not  contrary  to  nature,  to  allot  to  the 
wives  of  our  guardians  the  study  both  of  music  and  gym- 
nastics ?  Assuredly.  We  did  not  establish  then  what  is 
impossible,  or  to  be  only  vainly  wished  for,  when  we 
established  the  law  according  to  nature:  and  it  would 
seem  rather,  that  what  is  at  present  contrary  to  these 
things  is  contrary  to  nature  ?  It  seems  so.  Was  not 
then  our  inquiry,  whether  our  establishment  was  possible 
and  best  ?  It  was.  And  we  have  agreed,  that  it  is  pos- 
sible ?    Yes.    And  we  must  next  be  convinced,  that  it  is 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


best  ?  Clearly  so.  In  order,  therefore,  that  a  woman  may 
become  a  suitable  guardian,  there  will  not  be  one  mode 
of  education  for  making  men  [guardians],  and  another 
for  women,  especially  as  the  latter  have  received  the  same 
natural  genius?  No, —  it  will  not  be  different.  What 
think  you  then  of  such  an  opinion  as  this  ?  Of  what  l 
That  of  imagining  in  your  own  mind,  that  one  man  is 
better  and  another  worse;  or  do  you  deem  them  to  be 
all  alike  ?  By  no  means.  In  the  state  then  which  we  were 
just  establishing, — which  of  the  two  do  you  think  to  make 
the  better  men, — the  guardians  provided  with  this  edu- 
cation we  have  described,  or  shoemakers  that  are  taught 
shoemaking  ?  That  question,  replied  he,  is  ridiculous.  I 
understand  you,  said  I :  but,  tell  me ;  of  all  the  other 
citizens,  are  not  they  the  best  ?  By  far.  But  what ; 
will  not  these  women  too  be  the  best  of  women  ?  They 
will,  replied  he,  by  far.  Is  there  anything  better  in  a 
state,  than  that  both  women  and  men  be  rendered  the 
very  best  ?  There  is  not.  And  this  is  to  be  effected  by 
music  and  gymnastics  being  imparted  to  them,  as  we  have 
described  ?  Of  course.  We  have  been  establishing  then 
a  law,  which  is  not  only  possible,  but  best  also  for  the 
state  ?  Just  so.  We  must  unclothe,  then,  the  wives  of 
our  guardians,  since  they  are  to  put  on  virtue  for  clothes : 
and  they  must  bear  a  part  in  war,  and  all  other  guardi- 
anship of  the  state,  and  do  nothing  else :  but  of  these 
special  services  the  lightest  part  is  to  be  allotted  to  the 
women  rather  than  the  men,  on  account  of  the  weakness 
of  their  sex:  and  the  man  who  laughs  at  naked  women 
while  going  through  their  exercises  with  a  view  to  the 
best  object,  reaps  the  unripe  fruit  of  a  ridiculous  wis- 
dom, and  seems  not  rightly  to  know  at  what  he  laughs, 
or  why  he  does  it:  for  that  ever  was  and  will  be  deemed 
a  noble  saying  that  the  profitable  is  beautiful,  and  the 
hurtful  base.  Assuredly. 

Chap.  VII.  We  may  say  then  that  we  have  escaped 
one  wave,  as  it  were,  by  thus  settling  the  law  with  respect 
to  women,  and  have  not  been  quite  overwhelmed,  through 
determining  that  our  male  and  female  guardians  are  to 
manage  all  things  in  common:  and  besides  that,  our 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


171 


reasoning  has  been  consistent  with  itself,  as  respects 
both  what  is  possible  and  advantageous  also.  Truly,  it 
is  no  small  wave  you  have  escaped,  said  he.  You  will 
not  call  it  a  great  one,  replied  I,  when  you  see  what 
follows.  Tell  me,  said  he;  and  let  me  see.  After  this 
enactment,  replied  I,  and  the  others  formerly  mentioned, 
the  following,  I  think,  comes  naturally.  Which  is  that  ? 
That  these  women  be  all  common  to  all  these  men,  and 
that  no  one  woman  dwell  with  any  man  privately,  and 
that  their  children  likewise  be  common;  so  that  neither 
shall  the  parents  know  their  own  children,  nor  the  chil- 
dren their  parents.*  This,  in  comparison  with  the  other, 
is  far  more  difficult  to  persuade,  both  as  to  its  possibility 
and  utility.  I  do  not  think,  replied  I,  as  to  its  utility  at 
least,  that  any  one  would  doubt  about  it  being  a  very 
great  good  to  have  the  women  and  children  in  common, 
if  it  were  hxit  possible :  but  the  greatest  question,  me- 
thinks,  will  be,  whether  it  be  possible  or  not  ?  One 
might  very  well,  said  he,  raise  a  discussion  on  both 
points.  You  are  mentioning,  replied  I,  a  combination  of 
discussions;  but  I  thought,  at  least,  that  I  should  escape 
from  one  of  them,  if  its  utility  had  been  agreed  on,  and 
that  in  that  case  it  would  only  have  remained  to  consider 
its  possibility.  But  you  have  not  slunk  off,  said  he,  quite 
unobserved;  and  so,  give  us  an  account  of  both.  I  must 
submit  to  a  trial,  said  I :  indulge  me  thus  far,  how- 
ever: let  me  feast  myself,  as  the  slow  in  intellect  are 
wont  to  feast  themselves,  when  they  walk  alone :  for 
men  of  this  sort,  I  imagine,  ere  finding  out  how  to 
attain  what  they  desire,  waive  that  inquiry,  in  order  that 
they  may  not  tire  themselves  in  deliberating  about  its 
possibility  or  impossibility,  supposing  they  have  obtained 
what  they  desire,  and  then  they  go  through  what  re- 
mains,—  rejoicing,  also,   to  recount  what  they  will  do, 

*  This  peculiar  notion  on  the  community  of  wives  and  children  is 
severely  handled  by  Aristotle,  Polit.  ii.  ch.  2,  and  Hist.  Anim.  ix. 
I.  It  seems  probable,  however,  that  Plato  did  not  intend  here  entirely 
to  destroy  all  domestic  ties  whatever,  but  to  inctilcate  a  general  com- 
munity of  goods  as  far  as  possible,  —  as  most  conducive  to  civil  con- 
cord and  national  prosperity.  Compare,  however,  the  opening  of  the 
ninth  chapter  of  this  book.  The  fact  is,  that  the  question  is  here 
viewed  simply  in  its  physical,  not  in  its  moral  relations. 


172 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


when  it  has  happened,  and  rendering  their  soul,  other- 
wise indolent,  more  indolent  still.  Now  I  too  am  become 
languid,  and  would,  therefore,  defer  such  debates,  and 
inquire  afterwards  into  the  possibility  of  these  [arrange- 
ments]. At  present,  however,  supposing  them  possible, 
I  will,  if  you  please,  consider  how  our  rulers  are  to  reg- 
ulate matters  thence  arising,  in  order  that  the  doing  of 
these  things  may  be  most  advantageous  both  to  the  state 
and  the  guardians:  this,  first,  I  will  try  to  examine 
with  your  assistance,  and  the  other  question  afterward, 
if  you  allow  me.  Oh,  I  will  give  you  leave,  said  he: 
so  pray  proceed  with  your  inquiry. 

I  imagine,  then,  said  I,  if  our  rulers  will  be  worthy  of 
that  name,  and  those  also  who  are  their  auxiliaries,  that 
the  latter  will  cheerfully  do  whatever  they  are  bidden, 
while  the  former  will  take  the  command,  gfiving  their 
directions  in  some  matters  conformably  to  the  laws,  and 
imitating  their  spirit  in  whatever  matters  we  leave  to 
their  sole  guidance.  Very  likely,  said  he.  Do  you  then, 
their  lawgiver,  said  I,  as  you  have  chosen  out  the  men, 
so  choose  out  also  the  women,  making  them,  as  far  as 
possible,  of  similar  dispositions :  and  these,  as  they  dwell 
and  eat  together  in  common,  and  none  possesses  anything 
whatever  in  private,  will  be  always  together;  and  as 
they  mingle  in  the  gymnastic  yards  and  in  all  their  other 
training  exercises,  they  will,  I  think,  be  led  by  innate 
necessity  to  mutual  intimacies:  do  not  you  think  I  am 
speaking  of  what  must  necessarily  happen  ?  Not,  replied 
he,  by  any  geometrical  necessity,  but  by  one  founded  on 
love,  which  seems  to  be  more  cogent  than  the  other,  in 
persuading  and  winning  over  the  bulk  of  mankind. 

Chap.  VIII.  Quite  so,  said  I;  but  in  the  next  place, 
Glaucon,  to  form  irregular  intimacies,  or  to  do  anything 
else  of  the  same  character,  is  not  at  all  right  in  a  city  of 
happy  persons,  nor  ought  the  rulers  to  allow  it.  No,  it 
were  not  just,  said  he.  It  is  evident,  by  right,  in  the 
next  place,  to  make  marriages  as  far  as  possible  sacred; 
and  those  most  advantageous  would  be  sacred.  Alto- 
gether so.  How,  then,  are  they  to  be  most  advan- 
tageous ?    Tell  me   this,   Glaucon ;  for  in  your  house  I 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


173 


see  both  sporting  dogs,  and  a  great  number  of  well-bred 
birds;  have  you,  by  Zeus,  ever  attended  to  their  pairing, 
and  bringing  forth  young  ?  How  ?  said  he.  First  of  all, 
among  these,  though  all  be  well-bred,  are  not  some  of 
them  far  better  than  all  the  rest  ?  They  are.  Do  you 
breed  then  from  all  alike;  or  are  you  anxious  to  do  so, 
as  far  as  possible,  from  the  best  breeds  ?  From  the 
best.  But  how;  from  the  youngest  or  the  oldest,  or 
those  quite  in  their  prime  ?  From  those  in  their  prime. 
And  if  they  are  not  thus  bred,  you  consider  that  the 
breed  both  of  birds  and  dogs  greatly  degenerates  ?  I 
do,  replied  he.  And  what  think  you  as  to  horses,  said 
I,  and  other  animals;  is  the  case  otherwise  with  respect 
to  these  ?  It  were  absurd  [to  think  so],  said  he.  How 
strange,  my  dear  fellow,  said  I;  what  extremely  perfect 
governors  must  we  have, — if  the  same  applies  to  the 
human  race  !  Nevertheless,  it  is  so,  replied  he;  but 
what  then  ?  Because,  said  I,  they  must  necessarily  use 
many  medicines ;  but  as  for  a  physician,  where  the  body 
does  not  want  medicines,  but  men  willingly  subject  them- 
selves to  a  regimen  of  diet,  we  think  that  an  inferior 
and  less  skillful  one  may  suffice ;  but  when  there  is  need 
for  taking  medicines,  we  know  that  we  want  a  more 
able  physician.  True;  but  with  reference  to  what  do 
you  say  this  ?  With  reference  to  this,  replied  I :  it  seems 
likely  that  our  rulers  must  use  an  abundance  of  lying 
and  deceit  for  the  advantage  of  the  governed;  and  we 
said  somewhere,  that  all  these  things  were  useful  in  the 
way  of  a  remedy.  Rightly  too,  said  he.  This  apparent 
right  now  seems  by  no  means  inconsiderable  in  mar- 
riages and  the  propagation  of  children.  How  so  ?  It 
necessarily  follows,  said  I,  from  what  has  been  acknowl- 
edged, that  the  best  men  should  as  often  as  possible  form 
alliances  with  the  best  women,  and  the  most  depraved 
men,  on  the  contrary,  with  the  most  depraved  women; 
and  the  offspring  of  the  former  is  to  be  educated,  but 
not  of  the  latter,  if  the  flock  is  to  be  of  the  most  perfect 
kind:  and  this  must  be  so  done,  as  to  escape  the  notice  of 
all  but  the  governors  themselves,  if  at  any  rate  the 
whole  band  of  the  guardians  is  to  be  as  free  as  possible 
from  sedition.    Quite  right,  said  he.    Are  there  not  to 


174 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


be  festivals  legally  established,  in  which  we  shall  draw 
together  the  bi-ides  and  bridegrooms;  and  must  not 
there  be  sacrifices,  and  hymns  composed  by  our  poets  suit- 
able to  the  marriages  in  course  of  celebration  ?  But  as 
to  the  number  of  the  marriages,  this  we  will  leave  to  the 
rulers,  that  they  may  as  much  as  possible  keep  up  the 
same  number  of  men,  having  a  regard  both  to  wars  and 
diseases,  and  all  other  such  matters,  so  that  as  far  as 
possible,  our  state  maybe  neither  great  nor  small.  Right, 
said  he.  And  chances,  too,  I  conceive,  should  be  so  well 
managed,  that  the  depraved  man  may,  on  every  turn  of 
them,  accuse  his  fortune,  and  not  the  governors.  Of 
course,  said  he. 

Chap.  IX.  As  for  those  youths,  who  distinguish  them- 
selves, either  in  war  or  other  pursuits,  they  ought  to  have 
rewards  and  prizes  given  them,  and  the  most  ample  liberty 
of  lying  with  women,  that  so,  under  this  pretext,  the  great- 
est number  of  children  may  spring  from  such  parentage. 
Right.  And  as  for  the  offspring  born  from  time  to  time, 
are  the  authorities  presiding  over  these  matters  to  receive 
them,  whether  they  be  men  or  women,  or  both  ?  —  for 
somehow  these  offices  belong  in  common  both  to  men  and 
women.  Yes,  they  do.  As  respects,  then,  the  children 
of  worthy  persons,  I  think,  they  should  carry  them  to  some 
retirement,  to  certain  nurses  dwelling  apart  in  a  certain 
quarter  of  the  city;  but  as  for  the  children  of  the  more 
depraved,  and  such  of  the  rest  as  may  be  maimed  or  lame, 
they  will  hide  them,  as  is  right,  in  some  secret  and  obscure 
place.  Yes,  indeed,  said  he,  if  the  race  of  guardians  is  to 
be  pure.  Will  they  not,  then,  take  care  also  of  their 
children's  nurture,  bringing  to  the  nursery  mothers  with 
full  breasts,  taking  every  precaution  that  no  woman  should 
recognize  her  own  child,  and,  where  the  mothers  cannot 
suckle  them,  providing  others  who  would  be  able  to  do  so  ? 
And  they  will  be  careful  also  of  this  most  particularly,  that 
the  nurses  suckle  only  during  a  proper  time,  and  they 
will  enjoin,  both  on  the  nurses'^nd  keepers,  their  watch- 
ing duties,  and  every  other  necessary  toil.  You  speak,  said 
he,  of  a  time  of  great  ease  to  the  wives  of  our  guardians,  in 
the  breeding  of  children.    Yes,  for  it  should  be  so,  replied 


TPIE  REPUBLIC  OP  PLATO 


I.  But  let  us  next  discuss  what  we  were  so  anxious  to  do, 
when  we  said  that  the  procreation  of  children  should  take 
place  among  persons  in  the  prime  of  life.  True.  Do  you  agree 
with  me  then,  that  this  prime  season  is  at  twenty  in  a  woman, 
and  at  thirty  in  a  man  ?  How  do  you  reckon  this  time  for 
each  sex  ?  said  he.  The  woman,  replied  I,  is  to  bear 
children  to  the  state  from  the  age  of  twenty  to  that  of  forty; 
and  the  man,  after  having  passed  the  most  excitable  period 
of  his  course,  is  from  that  period  to  beget  children  to  the 
state  up  to  the  age  of  fifty-five.  This,  indeed,  is  the  prime,  re- 
plied he,  in  both  sexes,  both  as  respects  body  and  mind.  If, 
then,  any  one,  either  older  or  younger  than  these,  should  em- 
ploy himself  in  begetting  children  for  the  commonwealth,  we 
should  say  that  the  trespass  is  neither  right  nor  just,  since 
he  is  begetting  to  the  state  a  child,  which  (if  concealed) 
is  born  and  grows  up,  ushered  in  neither  by  sacrifices 
nor  prayers  (which,  on  every  marriage,  the  priestesses 
and  priests,  and  the  whole  state  offer,  that  the  descend- 
ants of  the  good  may  be  still  better,  and  that  from 
useful  descendants  others  still  more  useful  may  arise), 
but  is  born  in  darkness,  and  the  result  of  dreadful  incon- 
tinence. Right,  said  he.  And  the  law,  said  I,  must  be 
the  same,  if  any  of  those  men,  who  are  yet  of  the  age 
for  procreation,  have  intercourse  with  women  of  a  proper 
age,  without  the  magistrate's  leave ;  for  we  may  consider 
him  as  having  raised  to  the  state  a  bastard,  born  in 
adultery  and  unhonored  by  religious  auspices.  Most  right, 
said  he.  And  I  presume,  whenever  either  the  women  or 
the  men  are  past  the  age  of  procreation,  we  are  to  let 
the  men  cohabit  with  any  woman  they  like,  except  their 
daughter  and  mother,  and  the  children  of  their  daughters, 
or  those  upward  from  their  mother;  and  so  likewise  the 
women  are  to  embrace  any,  except  a  son,  a  father,  and 
the  children  of  these,  in  either  direction:  all  this  liberty 
we  are  to  grant  them,  after  we  have  enjoined  them  to 
be  careful,  first,  if  a  child  be  conceived,  not  to  bring  it 
to  the  light,  but  if,  by  accident,  it  should  be  brought 
forth,  so  to  expose  it  as  if  there  were  no  provision  for 
it.  All  these  things,  said  he  are  reasonably  said:  but 
how  are  the  fathers  and  daughters,  and  the  other  rela- 
tions you  just  mentioned,  to  be  known  to  one  another  ? 


176 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


They  are  not  to  be  known  at  all,  said  I;  but  from  the 
day  on  which  any  one  is  married,  whatever  children  are 
born  between  the  seventh  or  tenth  month  after  it,  all 
these  he  is  to  call,  the  males,  his  sons,  and  the  females, 
his  daughters,  and  they  are  to  call  him  father;  and  in 
the  same  way  again,  he  is  to  call  the  children  of  these, 
grandchildren;  and  they  in  turn  are  to  call  them  grand- 
fathers and  grandmothers ;  and  those  who  were  born  dur- 
ing the  period  in  which  their  fathers  and  mothers  were 
begetting  children,  they  shall  call  sisters  and  brothers,  as 
I  just  observed,  so  that  they  may  have  no  sexual  inter- 
course. But  as  for  brothers  and  sisters,  the  law  will  allow 
them  to  live  together,  if  their  lot  so  fall,  and  the  Pythian 
oracle  give  consent.    Quite  right  said  he. 

Chap.  X.  This,  and  such  as  this,  Glaucon,  is  the  com- 
munity of  women  and  children,  among  the  guardians  of 
the  state ;  and  that  this  is  consistent  both  with  the  rest  of 
our  policy,  and  is  by  far  the  best,  we  must  next  establish 
from  reason ;  or  how  shall  we  do  ?  By  Zeus,  just  so, 
said  he.  Is  not  this,  then,  the  beginning  of  our  agree- 
ment, to  ask  ourselves  what  we  can  allege  to  be  the 
greatest  good  for  the  establishment  of  a  state,  with  a  view 
to  which  the  lawgiver  is  to  enact  the  laws,  and  what  the 
greatest  evil,  and  next  to  examine,  whether  what  we 
have  hitherto  described  tends  to  or  conforms  with  the 
track  of  the  good,  and  is  opposed  to  that  of  the  evil  ? 
Most  certainly,  said  he.  Is  there,  then,  any  greater  evil 
for  a  state  than  that  which  tears  it  in  pieces,  and  makes 
it  many  instead  of  one;  or,  any  greater  good  than  that 
which  binds  it  together,  and  makes  it  one  ?  There  is  not. 
Does  not  then  the  communion  both  of  pleasure  and  pain 
bind  men  together,  when  the  whole  of  the  citizens  as 
much  as  possible  rejoice  and  mourn  in  fellowship,  for  the 
same  matters,  whether  gainful  or  the  contrary  ?  As- 
suredly, he  replied.  And  again,  any  mere  private  percep- 
tion of  such  things  dissolves  [that  union},  when  some 
grieve  exceedingly,  and  others  rejoice  exceedingly  at  the 
same  events,  either  in  the  state  or  those  composing  it  ? 
Of  course.  Does  not  this  then  arise  from  the  following 
circumstance,  when  such   words  as  these  are  not  pro- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


177 


nounced  at  the  same  time  in  a  state,  as  mine,  and  not 
mine;  and  with  regard  to  what  concerns  another,  in  the 
same  way  ?  Aye,  surely.  And  the  state  in  which  the 
greatest  number  imite  in  saying-  of  the  same  things,  that 

THIS    CONCERNS     ME,    and     THAT    DOES     NOT     CONCERN  ME, 

that  is  best  regulated  ?  By  far.  And  it  is  that  also, 
which  most  closely  resembles  the  individual  man ;  just  as, 
when  a  person's  finger  is  wounded,  the  entire  fellowship 
of  feeling,  extending  through  the  body  toward  the  soul, 
and  producing  that  harmony  which  is  the  work  of  the 
governing  principle  within  it,  [tn:y.,  the  soul],  experiences 
a  sensation,  and  at  the  same  time  wholly  sympathizes 
with  the  ailing  part;  and  thus  we  say  that  the  man  has 
a  finger-ache:  and  so  also,  with  respect  to  any  part 
whatever  of  the  human  frame,  the  same  reasoning  applies 
either  with  respect  to  grief,  when  a  part  is  in  pain,  or 
with  respect  to  pleasure,  when  it  is  at  ease.  Aye,  the 
very  same,  said  he:  and  as  to  what  you  are  asking,  the 
state  that  nearest  approaches  this  is  the  best  governed. 
When,  therefore,  any  individual  citizen  receives  good  or 
ill,  such  a  state,  methinks,  will  most  especially  maintain 
that  she  herself  is  the  party  affected,  and  will  unite  as 
a  whole  in  joy  or  mourning.  That  must  be  the  case, 
said  he,  in  a  state,  governed,  at  least,  by  good  laws. 

Chap.  XI.  It  will  be  time  perhaps  for  us  to  return  to 
our  state,  and  consider  as  to  the  points  on  which 
we  have  agreed  in  our  discussion,  whether  they  belong 
more  particularly  to  our  state  than  any  other.  Yes, 
we  must,  he  replied.  What  then  ?  there  are  surely  in 
other  states,  both  governors  and  people  ?  and  so  also  in 
this  ?  There  are.  And  will  not  all  these  address  one 
another  as  citizens  ?  Of  course.  But  besides  calling  them 
citizens,  what  do  the  people  call  their  governors  under 
the  other  forms  of  government  ?  In  most  states,  masters, 
but  in  democracies,  this  very  name  governors.  But  what 
as  to  the  people  in  our  state  ?  besides  citizens,  what  do 
they  say  their  governors  are  ?  Saviors,  said  he,  and 
helpers.  And  what  do  they  call  the  people  ?  Paymas- 
ters, replied  he,  and  supporters.  And  in  the  other  states, 
what  do  the  governors  call  their  people  ?     Slaves,  he 


178 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


replied.  And  what  do  the  governors  call  one  another  ? 
Fellow-governors,  said  he.  And  ours,  what  ?  Fellow- 
guardians.  Can  you  then,  tell  about  the  governors  in 
other  states,  whether  any  one  of  them  can  address  one 
of  his  fellow-governors  as  an  intimate,  and  another  as 
a  stranger  ?  Aye,  very  many  can.  Does  he  not  then, 
esteem  and  speak  of  his  intimate  as  his  own,  and  the 
stranger  as  not  his  own  ?  Just  so.  But  how  is  it  with 
your  guardians  ?  Is  there  any  one  of  them,  who  can 
esteem  or  address  any  of  his  fellow-guardians  as  a 
stranger  ?  By  no  means,  he  replied ;  for  with  whomever 
a  person  falls  in,  he  will  conceive  that  he  falls  in  with 
a  brother  or  sister,  or  a  father  or  mother,  or  a  son  or 
daughter,  or  their  descendants  or  ancestry.  You  speak 
exceedingly  well,  replied  I :  and  further,  tell  me  this 
also,  whether  you  will  give  them  only  a  legal  right  to 
these  familiar  names,  or  rather  bid  them  perform  all 
their  actions  in  accordance  with  these  names,  especially 
as  respects  parents,  whatever  the  law  enjoins  as  the  par- 
ents' due,  such  as  reverence,  and  care,  and  obedience, 
it  being  otherwise  not  for  his  advantage,  either  in  the 
sight  of  God  or  of  men,  inasmuch  as  he  would  do  what 
is  neither  holy  nor  just,  if  he  acted  otherwise  than  thus  ? 
Will  these,  or  other  maxims  coming  from  the  whole  body 
of  our  citizens,  echo  close  round  the  ears  of  our  children, 
both  about  their  parents,  when  pointed  out  to  them,  and 
about  other  relations  likewise  ?  These  [maxims  must  so], 
replied  he;  for  it  were  ridiculous,  if,  without  actions, 
their  proper  names  were  uttered  by  the  mouth  alone. 
Of  all  states  then,  in  this  especially,  when  any  one  indi- 
vidual fares  either  well  or  ill,  the  citizens  will  mostly 
agree  in  exclaiming,  according  to  our  late  expression, 
namely,  "  Mine  fares  well,  or  mine  ill  ?  "  Quite  true,  said 
he.  Did  we  not  say  too,  that  agreeably  to  this  opinion 
and  expression,  their  common  pleasures  and  pains  should 
agree  ?  Aye,  and  we  said  rightly.  Will  not  then,  our 
citizens  most  especially  hold  in  common  that  same  thing, 
which  they  call  "my  own,**  and,  holding  this  in  com- 
mon, thus  have  a  special  fellowship  in  pleasure  and  pain  ? 
Very  much  so.  And  the  cause  of  all  this,  independently 
of  other    regulations  of    the  state,  is  it  not  the  com- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


179 


munity  of  women  and  children  among  the  guardians  ? 
Most  especially  so,  he  replied. 

Chap.  XII.  We  had  agreed,  moreover,  as  to  the  great- 
est good  of  a  state,  by  comparing  a  well-managed  state 
to  a  body,  which  feels  pleasure  or  pain  affecting  any  part 
of  it.  Aye,  we  were  right,  said  he,  in  agreeing  about 
this.  The  cause  then  of  all  this  high  degree  of  good  to 
our  state  was  found  to  be  the  community  of  women  and 
children  among  our  defenders  ?  Surely,  replied  he. 
And  in  that  case,  we  agree  at  least  with  what  was  before 
alleged;  for  we  said,  I  believe,  that  they  ought  to  have 
neither  houses  of  their  own,  nor  land,  nor  any  possession, 
but  to  receive  their  subsistence  from  others,  as  reward 
for  their  guardianship,  and  all  to  consume  it  in  common, 
if  they  mean  really  to  be  guardians  ?  Right,  said  he. 
Do  not  then,  as  I  say,  the  circumstances  formerly 
mentioned,  and  still  more  those  now  mentioned,  cause 
them  to  be  true  guardians,  and  prevent  those  divisions 
in  the  state  [which  arise]  from  not  calling  one  and  the 
same  thing  their  own,  but  one  one  thing,  and  another 
another;  one  drawing  to  his  own  dwelling  whatever  he 
can  acquire  separately  from  the  rest,  and  another,  to 
his  likewise  that  which  is  separated ;  and  also  different 
wives  and  children,  occasioning  both  pleasures  and  pains, 
individually  private,  though  holding  one  and  the  same 
opinion  concerning  what  is  domestic,  all,  as  far  as 
possible,  pointing  toward  the  same  thing,  namely,  a 
community  of  feeling  respecting  pleasure  and  pain  ?  Of 
course,  we  grant  that,  replied  he.  But  what  ?  will  not 
lawsuits  and  criminal  charges  in  the  courts  be  banished 
from  among  them  (so  to  speak),  from  the  fact  of  their 
possessing  nothing  in  private  but  their  body,  but  all  the 
rest  in  common,  owing  to  which,  they  will  be  kept  free 
from  all  the  dissensions  which  men  raise  about  money, 
or  children  and  relatives  ?  It  is  quite  clear,  they  will 
be  thus  relieved.  And,  moreover,  in  these  there  could 
not  fairly  be  any  suits,  as  regards  personal  violence  or 
improper  treatment:  for  conceiving  personal  preserva- 
tion to  be  an  absolute  necessity,  we  will  own  it  to  be 
handsome  and  just  for  compeers  in  age  to  help  their  com- 


i8o  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 

peers.  Right,  said  he.  And  this  privilege,  said  I,  at  any 
rate,  this  law  possesses,  if  a  man  be  in  a  passion  with 
any  one,  he  will  in  such  a  case  be  less  apt  to  venture  on 
still  greater  seditions.  Certainly.  The  elder,  moreover, 
will  be  ordered  both  to  govern  and  chastise  all  the 
younger.  Clearly  so.  And  moreover,  as  to  the  younger, 
with  regard  to  the  elder,  unless  the  magistrates  order  it, 
he  will  never  attempt  to  beat  the  elder,  or  otherwise  offer 
him  violence,  nor,  methinks,  will  he  by  any  other  means 
dishonor  him:  for  there  are  two  sufficient  guardians  to 
hinder  it,  fear  and  respect,  respect  on  the  one  hand 
restraining  him  from  laying  hands  on  a  parent,  and  fear 
on  the  other,  that  others  might  come  to  the  defense  of 
the  sufferer;  some  as  sons,  others  as  brothers,  and  others 
as  fathers.  Yes,  such  is  the  case,  said  he.  In  every 
respect  then,  in  consequence  of  the  laws,  these  men  [t.  e. 
the  warriors],  will  enjoy  peace  with  one  another  ?  Yes, 
much.  And  so  long  as  these  do  not  quarrel  among  them- 
selves, there  is  no  danger  of  the  rest  of  the  state  rising 
or  mutually  splitting  into  factions.  No,  of  course  not. 
As  for  the  least  important  evils,  I  am  unwilling  for  pro- 
priety's sake  even  to  mention  from  how  many  they  will 
have  been  relieved,  the  poor,  [for  instance],  as  regards  the 
work  of  flattering  the  rich,  and  the  difficulties  and  anxie- 
ties, which  people  have  in  bringing  up  their  children  and 
procuring  money  for  the  support  of  servants,  sometimes  bor- 
rowing, sometimes  denying  debts,  and  at  other  times  using 
all  manner  of  shifts  in  procuring  [money],  and  then  giving 
it  to  the  management  of  their  wives  and  domestics ;  about 
these  matters,  friend,  how  many  slavish  and  ignoble 
troubles  they  suffer  are  not  even  worthy  to  be  mentioned. 
Yes,  they  are  manifest,  said  he,  even  to  one  blind. 

Chap.  XIII.  From  all  these  troubles,  therefore,  they 
will  be  relieved,  and  will  live  more  blessedly  than  that 
most  blessed  life  which  those  live  who  gain  the  Olympic 
prizes.  How  ?  On  one  small  account  only  are  those  es- 
teemed happy,  compared  with  what  these  enjoy;  for  the 
victory  of  these  is  more  noble,  and  their  maintenance  at 
the  public  expense  more  complete :  inasmuch  as  the  victory 
that  they  gain  brings  safety  to  the  entire  state,    and  by 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


way  of  crown  and  reward,  both  they  and  their  children 
receive  their  maintenance  and  all  other  necessaries  of  life, 
thus  winning  honors  from  their  own  state  while  living, 
and  at  their  death  an  honorable  funeral.  Noble  rewards  I 
indeed,  said  he.  Do  you  remember,  then,  said  I,  that  in 
a  former  part  of  our  discussion,  some  one,  I  know  not 
who,  objected  to  us,  that  we  were  not  making  our  guard- 
ians happy,  by  decreeing  that  those  who  had  the  whole  wealth 
of  the  citizens  at  their  command  should  nevertheless  have 
nothing  at  all  ?  and  we  said,  I  believe,  that  we  would 
consider  this  afterward,  if  it  fell  in  our  way ;  but  that  at 
present  we  were  making  our  guardians  real  guardians,  and 
the  state  itself  as  happy  as  possible,  without  exclusively 
regarding  any  single  class  in  it,  with  a  view  to  make  it 
happy  ?  I  remember,  said  he.  What  think  you  now  of  the 
life  of  our  auxiliaries,  which  appears  far  more  noble  and 
happy  than  that  of  those  of  the  Olympic  prizemen;  do 
you  think  it  can  be  compared  to  the  life  of  the  leather- 
cutter,  or  any  other  kind  of  craftsman,  or  even  the  farmer  ? 
I  do  not  think  so,  said  he.  Still  even,  what  I  said  before, 
it  is  proper  that  I  mention  here  also,  if  the  guardian 
should  try  to  become  happy  in  such  a  way  as  to  lose  his 
character  as  a  gnardian,  and  not  be  content  with  a  life 
thus  moderate  and  steady,  and  as  we  say,  of  the  best 
quality,  but  on  the  other  hand  be  impelled  by  a  silly  boy- 
ish  notion  about  happiness,  to  appropriate  to  himself  all 
the  property  in  the  state,  because  he  has  the  power,  he  will 
know  that  Hesiod  was  really  wise,  in  saying  that  *  the 
half  is  considerably  more  than  the  whole.  *  If  he  take  me 
for  his  counsellor,  said  he,  he  will  remain  in  such  a  life, 
You  agree  then,  said  I,  as  to  the  fellowship  of  the  women 
with  the  men,  which  we  have  explained,  in  matters  re- 
ferring to  education  and  children,  and  the  guardianship 
of  the  other  citizens;  that  whether  they  remain  in  the 
state,  or  go  forth  to  war,  they  ought  to  keep  guard  with 
them,  and  hunt  with  them  like  hounds,  and  in  every  case 
take  a  share  in  all  things,  as  far  as  they  can;  and  that 
doing  these  things  they  will  do  what  is  best,  and  not  con- 
trary to  the  nature  of  the  female,  as  regards  the  male, 
by  which  nature,  indeed,  they  act  jointly  with  one  another  ? 
I  agree,  said  he. 


l82 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Chap.  XIV.  Does  not  this  then,  said  I,  still  remain 
to  be  discussed,  whether  it  be  possible  that  this  com- 
munity of  habits  can  take  place  among  men,  even  as 
among  other  animals  ?  And  how  it  is  possible  ?  You 
have  forestalled  me,  said  he,  by  mentioning  what  I  was 
just  going  to  ask.  Aye ;  for  as  to  war,  said  I,  it  is 
plain,  methinks,  how  they  will  fight.  How  ?  said  he. 
They  will  go  out  jointly  on  their  military  expeditions, 
and  will  carry  along  with  them  to  battle  also  such  of  their 
children  as  are  robust,  in  order  that  those  of  the  crafts- 
men may  see  what  they  ought  to  practice  when  arrived 
at  full  age,  and,  apart  from  mere  observation,  may 
serve  and  minister  in  all  such  matters  subserviently  both 
to  their  fathers  and  mothers.  Have  you  not  observed 
also  what  happens  in  the  common  arts,  as,  for  instance, 
among  the  children  of  the  potters,  how  long  a  time  they 
help  and  look  on,  before  they  apply  themselves  to  the 
making  of  pottery  ?  Yes,  indeed.  Should  these  then,  or 
our  guardians,  be  more  careful  in  instructing  their  chil- 
dren by  their  own  experience,  and  by  observation  of  what 
is  suitable  for  them  ?  [To  suppose  that  the  craftsman 
would],  replied  he,  were  truly  ridiculous.  Yet  every 
creature  whatever  will  fight  more  valiantly  in  the  presence 
of  its  offspring  ?  It  is  so :  but  there  is  no  small  danger, 
Socrates,  should  they  be  defeated,  as  is  often  the  case  in 
war,  that  when  their  children,  as  well  as  themselves,  are 
cut  off,  it  will  be  impossible  to  restore  the  rest  of  the 
state.  You  speak  truly,  replied  I :  but  think  you,  that  our 
first  duty  should  be  never  to  expose  them  to  risk  ?  No, 
by  no  means.  What  then:  if  they  are  to  hazard  them- 
selves in  any  case,  is  it  not  where  they  will  become 
better  men,  if  they  succeed  ?  Clearly  so.  But  do  you 
think  it  a  small  matter,  and  unworthy  of  the  risk,  that 
children  destined  for  military  life  should  or  should  not  be 
observers  of  the  transactions  of  war  ?  No ;  for  it  is 
highly  important  with  reference  to  what  you  now  men- 
tion. This  then,  we  must  first  contrive,  to  make 
our  children  spectators  of  war,  yet  providing  for 
their  safety :  and  then  all  will  go  well,  will  it  not  ? 
Yes.  And  surely  their  fathers,  said  I,  in  the  first 
place,  as  far  as  men  can,  will  not  be  ignorant,  but  well 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


183 


informed  as  to  the  kinds  of  expeditions  which  are  dangerous 
or  not  so.  Probably  so,  said  he.  Into  the  one  then, 
they  will  take  them;  but  will  be  cautious  of  ex- 
posing them  to  the  other.  Right.  And  they  will  prob- 
ably, said  I,  set  governors  over  them,  not  such  as  are 
the  most  depraved,  but  such  as  by  experience  and  years 
are  able  leaders  and  trainers  of  the  young.  Yes,  quite 
proper.  Yet  many  things,  we  may  say,  happen  to  many 
contrary  to  expectation.  Quite  so.  With  reference,  there- 
fore, to  such  events  as  these,  it  is  fit  that  we  should 
provide  the  children  with  things  while  quite  young,  in 
order  if  need  be,  that  they  may  escape  by  flight.  How 
do  you  mean  ?  said  he.  We  must  mount  them  on  horse- 
back, said  I,  when  extremely  young,  and  when  they 
have  learned  to  ride,  they  must  be  taken  to  see  battles, 
not  on  high-mettled  war-horses,  but  on  the  fleetest  and 
most  obedient  to  the  rein ,  for  thus  they  will  best  observe 
their  proper  work,  and  in  case  of  need,  escape  with  the 
greatest  safety,  following  the  aged  leaders.  I  think,  said 
he,  your  remark  is  correct.  What  then,  said  I,  as  to  the 
affairs  of  war;  how  are  you  to  manage  our  soldiers,  both 
as  respects  each  other  and  their  enemies  ?  Is  my  opinion 
correct  or  not  ?  Tell  me  what  it  is,  replied  he.  As  for 
that  man  among  them,  said  I,  who  has  left  his  rank, 
thrown  away  his  arms,  or  done  any  such  like  act  from 
mere  cowardice,  ought  we  not  to  make  him  a  craftsman, 
or  field  laborer  ?  Certainly.  And  the  man  who  is  taken 
alive  by  the  enemy,  should  he  not  be  given  away  as  a 
present  to  those  inclined  to  use  their  booty  just  as  they 
please  ?  Yes,  surely.  And  as  to  him  who  has  signalized 
himself  and  attained  to  high  renown,  think  you  not,  that 
he  ought,  first  of  all  in  the  field  himself,  to  be  crowned 
successively  by  each  of  the  youths  and  boys  who  are  his 
fellow-soldiers  ?  is  it  not  so  ?  Yes,  I  think  so.  And  will 
they  give  him  the  right  hand  likewise  ?  And  that  too. 
But  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you,  said  I,  will  not,  me- 
thinks,  be  quite  so  pleasing.  What  ?  That  they  should 
kiss  and  be  kissed  by  each  individually  ?  This  is  by  far 
the  best  of  all,  said  he :  and  for  myself,  I  would  add  this 
regulation,  that,  so  long  as  they  are  on  this  expedition, 
no  one  shall  be  allowed  to  refuse  the  man,  whoever  it 


i84 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


be  that  he  pleases  to  kiss,  so  that  if  a  warrior  happen 
to  be  in  love  with  any  one,  male  or  female,  he  may  be 
the  more  animated  to  win  the  noblest  prize  of  valor. 
Very  well,  said  I :  for  it  has  been  already  said,  that 
more  opportunities  for  marriage  should  be  provided  for 
the  brave  citizen  than  for  others,  and  more  frequent  choice 
in  such  matters  should  be  allowed  to  them  than  to  all 
others,  in  order  that  such  a  man's  descendants  may  be 
as  numerous  as  possible.    Yes,  we  did  say  so,  replied  he. 

Chap.  XV.  Moreover,  even  according  to  Homer,  it  is 
just  that  really  brave  youths  should  be  honored  in  this 
way;  inasmuch  as  Homer  said,  that  Ajax,  who  on  account 
of  the  renown  he  had  gained  in  battle,  was  rewarded  with 
a  large  share  at  the  entertainments,  fit  reward,  too,  for  a 
brave  and  youthful  man,  from  which  he  at  once  acquired 
both  honor  and  strength.  Most  right,  said  he.  In  this 
matter,  at  least,  then,  said  I,  we  are  to  obey  the  authority 
of  Homer;  and  as  a  proof  of  this,  we  will  so  honor  the 
brave,  both  at  our  sacrifices,  and  on  such  like  occasions, 
in  as  far  as  they  appear  deserving,  both  with  hymns,  and 
the  honors  just  mentioned;  and  besides  this,  with  seats 
and  viands,  and  brimming  cups,  so  as  at  once  both  to 
honor  and  exercise  the  virtue  of  worthy  men  and  women. 
You  speak  capitally  well,  replied  he.  Well,  of  those  then 
that  die  in  the  campaign,  shall  we  not,  in  the  first  place, 
say,  of  the  man  that  closes  his  life  with  glory,  that  he  is 
of  the  golden  race  ?  Quite  so,  indeed.  And  are  we  not 
to  believe  Hesiod,  when  he  tells  us,  that  if  any  of  this 
race  die,  then  — 

Chaste,  holy,  earthly  spirits  they  become. 
Expelling  evil,  guardians  of  mankind  ? 

Yes,  we  will  believe  him.  We  will  ask  the  oracle  then, 
how  we  ought  to  bury  noble  and  divine  men,  and  with 
what  marks  of  distinction;  and  then  we  will  bury  them 
in  the  very  manner  that  [the  God]  directs.  Of  course. 
And  in  all  aftertime  we  will  reverence  and  worship  their 
tombs  as  those  of  demigods,  and  enact  that  the  same  cere- 
monies shall  be  observed  with  regard  to  persons  dying 
of  old  age,  or  from  any  other  cause,  after  having  been 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


deemed  remarkably  good  during  their  lifetime  ?  Aye,  it 
is  only  just,  said  he.  But  what  ?  how  are  our  soldiers 
to  behave  toward  enemies  ?  In  what  respect  ?  First,  as 
respects  enslavement,  think  you  it  just,  that  Greeks  should 
enslave  Greek  cities  ?  nay,  ought  they  not,  as  far  as  they 
can,  to  prevent  others  from  doing  it,  and  act  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  sparing  the  Grecian  tribe,  cautiously  looking  to 
the  possibility  of  being  themselves  enslaved  by  barbarians? 
Aye,  said  he ;  both  generally,  and  in  every  particular  case, 
it  is  the  best  plan  to  be  sparing.  Are  they  then,  not  to 
keep  any  Greek  slave  themselves,  and  to  counsel  the  rest 
of  the  Greeks  to  agree  to  the  same  plan  ?  Surely,  said  he : 
because  they  will  thus  at  least,  turn  themselves  the  more 
against  the  barbarians,  and  abstain  from  one  war  against 
another.  But  what  ?  Stripping  the  dead,  said  I,  of  any- 
thing but  their  arms  after  conquering  them,  is  that  right; 
or  does  it  not  rather  furnish  cowards  with  an  excuse  not 
to  go  against  a  foe,  as  if  they  were  doing  some  duty  when 
bending  over  a  mere  corpse;  and  have  not  many  armies 
been  destroyed  by  this  kind  of  plunder  ?  Very  many. 
Do  not  you  think  it  also  illiberal  and  forbidden  to  plun- 
der a  corpse,  and  the  mark  of  a  feminine  and  little  mind 
to  deem  the  body  of  the  deceased  an  enemy,  after  the 
enemy  has  fled  away,  and  naught  remain  behind,  but  the 
instrument  with  which  he  fought  ?  Do  you  think  that 
they  who  act  thus  do  any  otherwise  than  dogs  do,  who 
snap  at  the  stones  with  which  they  are  pelted  and  do  not 
touch  the  man  who  throws  them  ?  Not  at  all,  he  replied. 
We  must  have  done  then  with  this  stripping  of  the  dead, 
and  these  hindrances  arising  from  the  carrying  off  of 
booty.  Aye,  by  Zeus,  said  he,  we  must  have  done  with 
them. 

Chap.  XVI.  Moreover,  we  shall  not  at  any  time  bring 
arms  into  the  temples,  for  the  purpose  of  dedicating  them, 
at  least  not  the  arms  of  Greeks, — if  we  at  all  care  for 
the  kind  feeling  of  the  rest  of  the  Greeks;  but  we  shall 
rather  fear  its  being  a  kind  of  profanation  to  bring  into 
the  temple  such  things  as  these  from  our  close  connec- 
tions, unless  the  oracle  direct  us  otherwise.  Quite  right, 
replied  he.    And  as  regards  the  laying  waste  of  Grecian 


i86 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


lands  and  the  burning  of  houses,  how  would  your  soldiers 
treat  their  enemies  ?  Aye, — I  should  be  glad,  said  he  to 
hear  you  state  your  opinion  on  that  point.  Truly  then, 
said  I,  my  opinion  is,  that  we  should  do  neither  of  these 
things,  but  only  carry  off  the  year's  crop:  and  would  you 
have  me  tell  you  the  reason,  why  this  should  be  done  ?  By 
all  means.  It  appears  to  me,  that  as  these  two  words,  war 
and  discord,  are  different,  so  two  different  things  are 
signified  by  them;  and  I  call  them  different  —  the  latter 
between  members  of  the  same  community,  and  the  former 
between  foreigners  and  strangers.  When  hatred  is  among 
one's  own  people,  it  is  called  discord;  when  it  respects 
foreigners,  war.  What  you  say,  replied  he,  is  not  at  all 
unreasonable.  But  consider,  whether  what  I  now  state  is 
also  to  the  purpose ;  for  I  assert  that  the  Greek  nation 
itself  is  friendly  and  in  alliance  with  itself,  though  foreign 
and  strange  to  the  barbarian.  Well  observed,  said  he. 
When,  therefore,  Greeks  fight  with  barbarians,  and  bar- 
barians with  Greeks,  we  may  then  say,  that  they  are  at 
war,  and  naturally  enemies ;  and  this  hatred  we  may  call 
war:  but  when  Greeks  act  thus  toward  Greeks,  we  may 
say  that  they  are  naturally  friends,  and  that  Greece  in  such 
a  case  is  distempered,  and  at  discord ;  and  such  a  hatred  is 
to  be  called  discord.  I  agree,  said  he,  that  we  must  view 
it  thus.  Consider  then,  said  I,  that  in  the  discord  just 
mentioned,  whenever  such  a  thing  happens,  how  the  state 
is  split  in  factions,  and  when  they  sequester  each  other's 
lands  and  burn  each  others  houses,  how  destructive  the 
discord  seems,  and  neither  of  them  seem  to  be  lovers  of 
their  country;  for  otherwise  they  would  never  have  dared 
to  pillage  their  nurse  and  mother,  but  it  would  have  been 
sufficient  for  the  victors  to  carry  off  the  crops  of  the  van- 
quished, and  to  conceive  that  they  would  one  day  be  recon- 
ciled, and  not  perpetually  be  at  war.  This  indeed  is  by 
far  a  milder  sentiment  than  the  other.  But  what  then? 
said  I ;  this  state  that  you  are  founding,  is  it  to  be  a  Greek 
one  ?  It  ought,  he  replied.  Are  they  not  then  to  be  good 
and  mild  ?  By  all  means.  And  will  they  not  be  lovers 
of  Greece;  and  will  they  not  account  Greece  as  related 
to  them;  and  will  they  not  observe  the  same  religious 
rites  as  the  rest  of  the  Greeks  ?    Most  decidedly.  Any 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


187 


difference  then,  that  they  have  with  Greeks,  as  kinsmen, 
will  they  not  consider  that  as  discord, — not  war?  Yes, 
for  it  is  not  war.  And  they  will  behave  then,  as  those 
capable  of  beinj»-  reconciled  !  Quite  so,  of  course.  They 
will  be  mild  then  and  moderate,  not  pushing  so  far  as 
to  enslave  or  destroy, —  as  advocates  for  correction,  and  not 
as  enemies.  Just  so,  said  he.  Neither  then,  as  they  are 
Greeks,  will  they  pillage  the  lands,  or  burn  the  houses 
of  Greeks;  nor  will  they  allow,  that  in  every  state,  indi- 
vidually, all  are  their  enemies,  men,  women,  and  children, 
but  that  in  all  cases  a  few  only  are  enemies, —  the  origi- 
nators of  the  quarrel;  and  on  all  these  accounts  they 
will  not  choose  to  lay  waste  their  lands,  since  the  majority 
of  the  occupants  are  their  friends;  nor  will  they  over- 
turn the  houses:  and  so  far  only  will  they  carry  on 
the  war,  until  the  real  originators  be  obliged  by  the 
innocent  to  make  reparation  to  those  whom  they  have 
grieved.  I  agree,  said  he,  that  we  ought  so  to  behave 
toward  opponents  among  our  own  citizens, — but  toward  the 
barbarians,  as  the  Greeks  now  act  toward  each  other. . 
This  law,  then,  also,  let  us  enact  for  our  guardians,  that 
they  shall  neither  lay  waste  the  lands,  nor  burn  the 
houses.  Aye,  let  us  enact  it,  said  he ;  and  this  further, 
that  these  things  are  right,  and  those  also,  that  you  be- 
fore mentioned. 

Chap.  XVIL  It  appears  to  me,  however,  Socrates,  that 
if  one  allow  you  to  go  on  speaking  in  this  fashion,  you 
will  never  remember  what  you  formerly  put  aside,  when 
you  entered  on  all  that  you  have  now  said ;  namely,  how 
far  such  a  government  is  possible,  and  in  what  way  it  is 
at  all  possible  ?  For,  if  it  be  at  all  possible,  I  will  allow 
that  all  these  high  advantages  will  belong  to  that  state 
in  which  it  exists,  and  the  following  also,  which  you 
omitted ;  and  I  now  tell  you,  that  they  will,  with  all  pos- 
sible courage,  fight  against  their  enemies,  and  least  of 
all  abandon  each  other,  recognizing,  and  calling  one  an- 
other by  these  names, —  fathers,  sons,  and  brothers;  and 
if  the  females  encamp  along  with  them,  whether  in  the 
same  rank,  or  drawn  up  behind  them,  they  will  strike 
terror  into  the  enemies,  and  at  the  same  time,  in  case 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


of  need,  give  all  assistance ;  in  this  way  I  know,  they 
will  be  utterly  unconquerable ;  and  as  for  the  advantages 
they  have  at  home,  which  we  have  omitted,  those  at  any 
rate  I  plainly  see.  But  as  I  allow,  that  all  these,  and 
ten  thousand  other  things,  will  belong  to  this  form  of 
government,  if  it  actually  does  exist,  let  us  talk  no  more 
about  it,  but  try  to  persuade  each  other  of  this  itself, 
how  far  it  is  possible,  and  in  what  way:  and  let  us 
omit  the  other  points.  You  have  suddenly,  said  I,  made 
an  attack  on  my  argument,  and  make  no  allowance  for 
one  who  is  but  a  bungler;  because,  perhaps,  you  do  not 
know  with  what  difficulty  I  have  got  over  two  breakers, 
and  now  you  are  driving  me  on  the  greatest  and  most 
dangerous  of  all  the  three.  After  having  seen  and  heard 
this,  you  will,  I  am  sure,  forgive  me;  allowing  that  I 
had  reason  for  hesitation,  and  was  frightened  by  the 
mention  of  so  great  a  paradox  from  undertaking  its 
examination.  The  more,  said  he,  you  mention  such 
things,  the  less  will  you  be  excused  from  explaining 
in  what  respect  this  government  is  possible.  Proceed 
then  without  delay.  Must  we  not  then,  said  I,  first 
remember  this,  that  we  are  come  hither  to  inquire 
into  the  nature  of  justice  and  injustice  ?  We  must, 
said  he.  But  what  is  this  to  the  purpose  ?  Nothing. 
But  supposing  we  find  out  the  nature  of  justice,  are 
we  to  judge,  then,  that  the  just  man  ought  nowise  to 
differ  therefrom,  but  in  every  respect  to  resemble  justice ; 
or  are  we  to  be  satisfied,  if  he  approach  to  it,  as  nearly 
as  possible,  and,  of  all  others,  partake  of  it  the  most  ? 
This  will  satisfy  us,  said  he.  For  example's  sake,  then, 
said  I,  we  were  inquiring  into  this, — what  is  the  nature 
of  justice;  and  we  were  in  quest  also  of  the  perfectly 
just  man,  how  he  became  so,  and  what  was  his  nature, 
if  he  really  existed,  —  and  so  also  with  respect  to  injus- 
tice, and  the  supremely  unjust  man,  in  order  that  looking 
to  them  as  regards  their  apparent  qualities  in  relation 
to  happiness  and  its  opposite,  we  might  be  obliged  to 
acknowledge  concerning  ourselves,  that  whoever  most 
resembles  them  in  character  will  have  a  fortune  most 
resembling  theirs;  and  not  for  the  purpose  of  showing 
that  these  things  are  possible  or  not.    It  is  quite  true, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


said  he.  Think  yoii,  then,  that  he  is  in  any  degree  an 
inferior  painter,  who,  having  painted  the  portrait  of  a 
very  handsome  man,  and  having  expressed  everything 
fully  in  his  picture,  is  yet  unable  to  show  that  such  a 
man  really  exists  ?  By  Zeus,  said  he,  I  do  not.  Well, 
have  we  not  now,  then,  logically  defined  [shall  we  say], 
the  model  of  a  good  state  ?  Yes,  indeed.  Have  we, 
indeed,  less  ably  stated  the  case,  think  you,  for  this 
reason,  because  we  are  unable  to  show  the  possibility  of 
a  state  being  established  as  we  have  described?*  No, 
indeed,  said  he.  This,  then,  said  I,  is  the  truth  of  the 
case :  but  if  indeed,  I  must  now,  on  your  account,  be 
anxious  on  this  point, —  that  is,  to  show  how  and  in  what 
respects  it  is  most  possible,  with  a  view  to  this  dis- 
covery, you  must  again  allow  what  you  did  before. 
What  ?  Can  anything  possibly  be  executed  as  perfectly 
as  it  is  described;  or,  is  it  the  nature  of  practice,  that 
it  does  not  approach  so  near  to  truth  as  theory,  though 
some  may  think  otherwise :  will  you  allow  this  or  not  ? 
I  allow  it,  said  he.  Do  not  oblige  me,  then,  to  show  you 
that  all  these  things  in  every  respect  positively  exist  in 
as  great  perfection  as  we  have  described  in  our  reason- 
ing: if,  however,  we  can  find  out  how  a  state  may  be 
established  as  closely  as  possible  to  what  has  been  men- 
tioned, you  will  agree  that  we  have  discovered  the  pos- 
sibility of  what  you  require;  or  will  you  not  even  be 
satisfied,  if  this  be  proved  ?  For  my  own  part  I  should 
be  satisfied.    Yes,  and  I  too,  said  he. 

Chap.  XVIII.  Next,  then,  it  seems,  we  must  endeavor 
to  find  out  and  show  what  is  the  evil  now  existing  in 
states,  owing  to  which  they  are  not  established  in  the 
manner  we  have  described, —  and  what  is  that  smallest 
change,  by  making  which  we  could  bring  the  state  to  this 
model  of  government;  and  let  us  chiefly  see  if  this  can 
be  effected  by  the  change  of  one  thing, — if  not,  by  the 
change  of  two, —  if  not  that,  by  the  change  of  the  fewest 
things  in  number,  and  the  smallest  in  power.    By  all 

*  Plato's  object  here  is  to  show,  that  painters  in  the  high  depart- 
ments of  art  copy  ideal,  not  actual  nature, — nature  in  its  perfection, 
— not  in  its  imperfect  and  actual  nature. 


190 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


means,  said  he.  By  changing  one  thing  only,  then,  said 
I,  methinks  I  can  show  that  the  state  may  be  molded 
into  this  form  of  government:  that  change,  however,  is 
neither  small  nor  easy,  though  possible.  What  is  it  ?  said 
he.  I  am  now  come,  said  I,  to  what  I  compared  to  the 
greatest  wave:  and  it  shall  now  be  mentioned,  even 
though,  as  with  a  wave,  I  should  be  overwhelmed  with 
ridicule  and  infamy.  Consider,  however,  what  I  am  now 
going  to  say.  Proceed,  replied  he.  Unless  either  phi- 
losophers, said  I,  govern  in  states,  or  those  who  are  at 
present  called  kings  and  governors  philosophize  genuinely 
and  sufficiently,  and  both  political  power  and  philosophy 
unite  in  one, —  and  until  the  bulk  of  those  now  pursuing 
each  of  these  separately  are  of  necessity  excluded,  there 
will  be  no  end,  Glaucon,  to  the  miseries  of  states,  nor 
yet,  as  I  think,  to  those  of  the  human  race ;  nor  till  then 
will  that  government,  which  we  have  described  in  our 
reasonings,  ever  spring  up  to  a  positive  existence,  and 
behold  the  light  of  the  sun.  And  this  is  what  all  along 
made  me  dislike  mentioning  it,  that  I  saw  what  a  paradox 
I  was  aboiit  to  advance:  for  one  can  scarcely  be  con- 
vinced that  no  other  government  but  this  can  enjoy  hap- 
piness, either  public  or  private.  You  have  thrown  out 
such  an  expression  and  argument,  Socrates,  said  he,  as  you 
think  may  bring  on  you  a  great  many,  and  these,  too,  so 
specially  bold  as  to  put  off  their  clothes,  and  snatch  naked 
whatever  weapon  each  happens  to  have  ready  (as  if  about 
performing  prodigies)  for  rushing  forward  in  battle  array: 
and  if  you  do  not  mow  them  down  with  argument,  and 
so  make  your  escape,  you  will  pay  for  it  by  suffering  the 
severest  ridicule.  And  are  not  you  the  cause  of  all  this  ? 
said  I.  Aye,  through  acting  well  at  least,  replied  he: 
yet  in  this  affair,  I  will  not  betray  but  defend  you,  as  far 
as  I  can;  and  I  am  enabled  to  do  so  both  by  my  own 
good-will  and  your  encouragement;  and  your  questions 
probably  I  shall  answer  more  carefully  than  any  other: 
only  do  you  try,  by  help  of  such  assistance,  to  show  those 
who  are  loath  to  believe  these  things,  that  they  really 
are  what  you  represent  them.  I  must  try,  said  I;  espe- 
cially, as  you  afford  me  so  much  assistance.  And  here  it 
seems  necessary,  if  we  can  at  all  escape  from  those  you 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


191 


mention,  that  we  should  at  any  rate  define  clearly  what 
kind  of  men  those  are  whom  we  call  philosophers, — 
those,  who,  we  are  bold  enough  to  say,  ought  alone  to 
govern ;  so  that,  when  they  are  clearly  pointed  out,  an 
able  defense  may  be  set  up,  by  asserting  that  it  is  their 
natural  province  both  to  study  philosophy,  and  also  assume 
to  themselves  the  government  of  the  state, — while  the 
other  members  of  the  state  study  neither  philosophy  nor 
politics,  but  only  obey  their  leader.  It  is  quite  fit,  said 
he,  that  we  should  define  them.  Come,  then,  follow  me 
this  way,  [and  see]  if  we  can  in  some  way  or  other 
sufficiently  explain  this  matter.  Lead  on,  then,  said  he. 
Will  it  be  necessary,  then,  to  remind  you,  said  I, — or  do 
you  recollect,  that  when  we  say  of  any  one,  that  he  loves 
a  thing,  he  would  not  appear,  if  we  speak  strictly,  to  love 
one  part  of  it,  and  not  another,  but  to  have  an  affection 
for  the  whole  ? 

Chap.  XIX.  I  need,  it  seems,  to  be  reminded  of  that, 
replied  he ;  for  I  do  not  understand  it  perfectly.  Some 
one  else,  indeed,  Glaucon,  replied  I,  might  say  what 
you  say;  but  it  does  not  become  a  man  who  is  a  lover, 
to  forget  that  all  things  in  their  bloom  somehow  excite 
and  agitate  an  amorous  person  and  lover,  as  seeming 
worthy  both  of  respect  and  of  proper  salutes:  do  you  not 
behave  in  this  manner  tOAvard  the  beautiful  ?  One,  be- 
cause flat-nosed,  will  be  called  agreeable,  and  be  an 
object  of  praise ;  and  the  hooked  nose  of  another  you 
call  princely;  and  that  between  these,  formed  with  ex- 
act symmetry:  the  dark  are  said  to  have  a  manly  look, 
and  the  fair  to  be  the  children  of  the  gods:  but  this 
name  of  delicate  white,  think  you  it  is  the  invention  of 
any  other  than  a  flattering  lover,  who  easily  bears  with 
the  paleness,  if  it  be  in  the  season  of  youth?  —  in  one 
word,  do  you  not  make  all  kinds  of  pretenses,  and  say 
everything  that  you  can,  so  as  not  to  reject  any  one 
who  is  in  the  prime  of  life  ?  If  you  are  disposed,  said 
he,  to  judge  by  me  of  other  lovers,  that  they  act  in 
this  manner,  I  agree  to  it  for  argument's  sake.  And 
what,  said  I,  as  to  lovers  of  wine:  do  not  you  find 
that  they  act  in  the  same  manner,  cheerfully  drinking 


192 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


every  kind  of  wine  on  every  pretext  ?  Yes,  indeed. 
And  you  perceive,  I  suppose,  that  the  ambitious,  like- 
wise, if  they  cannot  obtain  the  command  of  an  army, 
will  take  the  command  of  a  t/xtto?;  and  if  they  cannot 
get  honor  from  greater  and  nobler  men,  are  content  to 
be  honored  by  the  lesser  and  the  meaner  sort,  because 
they  are  desirous  of  honor  at  any  rate  ?  Perfectly  true. 
Will  you  allow  this  or  not:  if  we  say,  one  desires  a 
thing,  are  we  to  say  that  he  desires  the  whole  species, 
or  that  he  desires  one  part  of  it,  but  not  another  ?  The 
whole,  replied  he.  May  we  not,  then,  likewise  say,  that 
the  philosopher  desires  wisdom,  and  that,  too,  not  one 
part  only,  but  the  whole  ?  True.  He,  then,  who  is 
averse  to  a  course  of  discipline,  especially  if  he  be 
young,  and  has  not  understanding  to  discern  what  is 
good  and  what  is  otherwise,  should  not  be  called  a 
lover  of  learning,  nor  a  philosopher;  just  as  we  say  of 
a  person  disgusted  with  meats,  that  he  neither  hungers 
after  nor  desires  meats,  and  is  not  a  lover  but  a  hater 
of  them.  Aye, —  and  we  shall  say  right.  But  the  man 
who  has  a  ready  inclination  to  taste  of  every  branch  of 
learning,  and  enters  with  pleasure  on  its  study,  and  is 
insatiable  thereof,  this  man  we  may  with  justice  call  a 
philosopher,  may  we  not  ?  Whereon  Glaucon  said.  Many 
such  philosophers  as  those  will  go  into  great  absurdities; 
for  all  your  lovers  of  shows  appear  to  me  to  be  of  this 
kind,  from  taking  a  pleasure  in  learning;  and  your  story 
lovers  are  of  all  persons  to  be  reckoned  the  most  stupid, 
—  among  philosophers  at  least.  These,  indeed,  would  not 
willingly  attend  to  such  reasoning,  or  to  such  a  disqui- 
sition as  this.  But  yet,  as  if  they  had  hired  out  their 
ears  to  listen  to  every  public  ditty,  they  run  about 
to  the  Dionysia,  omitting  neither  the  civic  nor  vil- 
lage festivals.*  Are  all  these,  then,  and  others  who 
run  after  such  matters,  and  those  likewise  who  devote 
themselves  to   the   inferior    arts,  to    be    called  by  us 

*  There  were  three  festivals  at  Athens,  commonly  termed  Bac- 
chic,—  the  great  or  city  festival  (the  most  important  of  all,  at 
which  the  dramatic  poets  contended  with  their  new  plays),  cele- 
brated in  the  month  Elaphebolion, — the  Lenaea,  in  the  month 
Maimacterion, —  and  the  rural   Dionysia,   in  the  month  Poseideon. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


193 


philosophers  ?  By  no  means,  said  I,  but  only  like  phi- 
losophers. 

Chap.  XX.  Who  are  they,  however,  said  he,  whom 
you  call  the  true  ones  ?  Those,  said  I,  who  are  desirous 
of  discerning  the  truth.*  That,  too,  said  he,  is  correct: 
but  how  do  you  mean  ?  It  is  not  easy,  said  I,  to  tell 
another  this;  but  you,  I  think,  should  agree  with  me  in 
this.  In  what  ?  That  since  the  beautiful  is  contrary  to 
the  deformed,  these  are  two  things.  Of  course,  they 
are.  And  if  they  are  two,  then  each  of  them  is  one. 
Granted  also.  And  as  regards  justice  and  injustice, — 
good  and  evil, —  and  also  respecting  all  ideas  whatever, 
the  argument  is  the  same  —  that  each  of  them  is  one  in 
itself,  though,  as  to  their  relation  with  actions  and  bodies, 
and  each  other  mutually,  they  take  an  all-varying  num- 
ber of  forms,  so  as  to  make  the  one  appear  many.  Right, 
said  he.  In  this  manner  then,  said  I,  do  I  distinguish 
and  set  apart  those  that  you  just  mentioned,  the  lovers 
of  public  shows,  from  craftsmen  and  mechanics ;  and  then 
quite  apart  from  these  I  place  those  of  whom  we  are 
now  discoursing,  whom  alone  we  may  properly  call  phi- 
losophers. How  say  you  ?  replied  he.  The  lovers  of  com- 
mon stories  and  spectacles,  delight  in  fine  sounds,  colors, 
and  figures,  and  everything  made  up  of  these;  but  the 
nature  of  beauty  itself  their  intellect  is  unable  to  discern 
and  admire.  That  is  the  case,  indeed,  said  he.  As  to 
those,  however,  who  are  able  to  approach  this  beauty 
itself  and  behold  it  in  its  real  essence,  surely  they  must 

*The  portrait  of  the  true  philosopher,  whom  Plato  conceives  to 
be  the  only  true  president  and  ruler  of  his  state,  is  described  from 
this  chapter  onward  to  the  end  of  the  third  chapter  of  the  sixth 
book,  with  further  illustration  in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  that 
book.  Should  the  reader  conceive,  that  too  little  regard  is  paid 
to  worldly  affairs  and  too  little  stress  laid  on  the  doctrine  of  ideas, 
he  must  recollect  that  this  philosopher  conceived  that  all  knowl- 
edge of  truth  — (without  which  not  even  civil  business  could  be 
conducted,  according  to  his  notions)  —  is  to  be  gained  only  from 
the  contemplation  of  things  considered  per  se, —  and  that  there 
can  be  no  real  human  felicity  unconnected  with  wisdom  and  vir- 
tue, which  can  only  be  attained  by  true  philosophers  engaged  in 
inquiring  into  the  eternal  nature  of  things  around  or  in  themselves. 
13 


194 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


be  few  in  number  ?  Extremely  so.  He,  then,  who  deems 
some  things  beautiful,  but  neither  knows  beauty  itself  nor 
is  able  to  follow,  should  any  one  lead  to  the  knowledge  of  it, 
do  you  think  he  lives  in  a  dream,  or  is  awake  ?  Consider: 
is  not  this  to  dream,  when  a  man,  either  asleep  or  awake, 
imagines  the  likeness  of  a  thing  not  to  be  its  likeness,  but 
the  real  thing  itself  which  it  resembles  ?  I  for  my  part 
would  assert,  replied  he,  that  such  a  person  is  really  in 
a  dream.  But  what  now  as  to  him  who  comes  to  an 
exactly  opposite  conclusion,  who  understands  the  real 
nature  of  beauty,  and  is  able  to  discern  both  it  and  its 
accessories,  and  deems  neither  the  accessories  to  be 
beauty,  nor  beauty  the  accessories;  does  such  a  man, 
think  you,  live  in  a  waking  or  dreaming  state  ?  Wide 
awake,  said  he.  May  we  not  then  properly  call  this  man's 
intellectual  power,  so  far  as  he  really  knows,  knowledge, 
but  that  of  the  other,  opinion, — as  he  only  opines? 
Surely  so.  But  what, — if  the  person,  who,  we  say,  only 
opines  things,  but  does  not  really  know  them,  becomes 
indignant,  and  raises  a  dispute,  alleging  that  our  posi- 
tion is  not  true,  shall  we  have  any  method  of  soothing 
and  gently  persuading  him,  and  yet  at  the  same  time 
concealing  that  he  is  not  in  a  sound  state  ?  We  surely 
ought,  replied  he.  Come  then,  bethink  you  what  we  are 
to  say  to  him, — are  you  disposed  that  we  should  question 
him  thus, — saying,  that  if  he  knows  anything,  no  one 
envies  him,  and  we  should  gladly  see  him  possessed  of 
more  knowledge;  and  tell  us  this  too,  does  the  man 
who  has  so  much  knowledge,  know  something  or  nothing  ? 
Do  you  answer  me  in  his  behalf  ?  I  will  answer,  said  he, 
that  he  knows  something.  Is  it  something  then,  that 
does  or  does  not  exist  ?  What  does  exist :  for  how  can 
that,  which  does  not  exist,  be  known  ?  This,  then,  we 
have  sufficiently  considered;  though  we  might  have 
considered  it  more  fully, — that  what  really  is,  may  be 
really  known,  but  what  does  not  at  all  exist,  cannot  be 
known  at  all?  Yes, — this  we  have  examined  quite  suffi- 
ciently. Be  it  so:  but  if  there  be  anything  of  such 
character,  as  both  to  be  and  not  to  be,  must  it  not  lie 
between  what  has  a  perfect  existence,  and  what  has  none 
at  all  ?    Between  them.    If  then  there  is  knowledge  as 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


195 


to  what  really  exists,  and  necessarily  ignorance  as  to 
what  does  not  exist, — as  to  what  lies  between  these, 
must  we  not  seek  for  something  between  ignorance  and 
science,  if  there  be  any  such  thing?  By  all  means.  Are 
we  to  allege,  then,  that  opinion  is  anything?  Of  course. 
Is  it  a  different  faculty  from  science,  or  the  same  ?  Dif- 
ferent. Opinion  then  is  conversant  about  one  thing,  and 
science  about  another,  each  according  to  its  own  peculiar 
faculty  ?  Just  so.  Is  not  then  the  nature  of  science  as 
regards  that  which  exists,  to  know  what  existence  is  ?  It 
seems  to  me,  however,  far  more  necessary  to  lay  down 
the  distinction  thus.    How  ? 

Chap.  XXI.  We  will  say,  that  faculties  are  a  certain 
kind  of  real  existences,  by  which  both  we  can  do  what- 
ever we  are  able,  and  every  being  else  also  whatever  it 
is  able :  for  instance,  I  say,  that  seeing  and  hearing  are 
faculties,  if  you  understand  what  I  mean  to  call  **the 
species'*  [or  idea].*  I  understand,  said  he.  Hear  then 
what  is  my  opinion  about  them:  for  I  do  not  see  any 
color  nor  figure,  nor  any  of  such  qualities  of  a  faculty, 
as  of  many  other  things,  with  reference  to  which  I  form 
a  mental  internal  perception  of  their  differences:  but  in 
a  faculty,  I  regard  that  alone,  about  which  it  is  employed, 
and  what  it  accomplishes;  and  on  this  account  I  call  each 
of  them  a  faculty;  and  that  which  is  employed  about 
and  accomplishes  one  and  the  same  purpose,  this  I  call 
the  same  faculty;  but  what  is  employed  about  and  accom- 
plishes a  different  purpose,  that  I  call  a  different  faculty: 
what  say  you  ?  In  what  manner  do  you  call  it  ?  Just  the 
same,  he  replied.  Here  again,  excellent  Glaucon,  said 
I, —  do  you  allege,  that  science  is  itself  a  certain  faculty, 
or  to  what  class  do  you  refer  it  ?  To  this,  he  said,  the 
strongest  of  all  the  faculties.  But  what,  then;  —  are  we 
to  refer  opinion  to  faculty,  or  to  some  other  species  ? 
By  no  means,  said  he ;  for  that  by  which  we  have  the 

*  Plato  makes  use  of  two  terms  in  his  sj'Stem, —  to  tUog  and 
fj  lika;  and  some  commentators  are  disposed  to  think,  that  the 
former  corresponds  with  the  dialectical  term,  species, — the  higher  in- 
tellectual, abstract  notion  being  expressed  only  by  the  latter.  It  must 
be  confessed,  however,  that  they  are  often  used  with  scarcely  any  dis- 
tinction of  meaniog. 


196 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


power  of  forming-  opinions  is  nothing  else  but  opinion. 
But  some  time  since,  you  allowed  that  science  and  opin- 
ion were  not  the  same.  How,  said  he,  can  any  one 
with  common  sense  reduce  under  one,  what  is  infalli- 
ble, and  what  is  not  infallible  ?  Right,  said  I ;  and  it 
is  plain,  that  we  have  allowed  opinion  to  be  a  differ- 
ent thing  from  science.  Yes, —  different.  Each  of  them 
then  has  naturally  a  different  faculty  in  reference  to  a 
different  object  ?  Of  course.  Science  surely  as  regards 
that  which  exists,  so  as  to  know  the  nature  of  real  exist- 
ence ?  Yes.  But  we  say  that  opinion  opines  ?  Yes.  Is  it 
cognizant  of  the  same  thing-  that  science  is ;  and  will  that 
which  is  known,  and  that  which  is  matter  of  opinion,  be 
the  same ;  or  is  this  impossible  ?  Impossible,  said  he, 
from  what  has  been  granted:  since  they  are  naturally 
faculties  of  different  things,  and  both  of  them  are  facul- 
ties,—  opinion  and  science, — and  each  of  them  different 
from  the  other  as  we  have  said,  hence  it  cannot  be,  that 
what  is  opined  is  the  same  with  that  which  is  known.  If 
then  that  which  exists  is  known,  must  it  not  differ  from 
what  is  perceived  by  opinion  ?  It  does  differ.  Does 
opinion  then  entertain  what  has  no  existence;  or  is  it 
impossible  to  opine  what  does  not  exist  at  all  ?  Consider 
now,  does  not  the  man  who  opines,  refer  his  opinion  to  some 
standard ;  or  is  it  possible  to  opine,  and  yet  opine  nothing  at 
all  ?  Impossible.  '  But  whoever  opines,  opines  some  one 
thing  ?  Yes.  But  surely  that  which  does  not  exist,  cannot 
be  called  any  one  thing,  but  most  properly  nothing  at  all  ? 
Certainly.  But  we  necessarily  referred  ignorance  to  that 
which  has  no  true  being,  and  knowledge  to  real  exist- 
ence ?  Right,  said  he.  He  does  not,  therefore,  opine 
true  being,  nor  yet  that  which  has  no  being  ?  He  does 
not.  Opinion  then  is  neither  knowledge,  nor  is  it  igno- 
rance ?  It  seems  not.  Does  it  then  exceed  these,  either 
knowledge  in  perspicuity,  or  ignorance  in  obscurity  ? 
Neither.  Think  you  then,  said  I,  that  opinion  is  more 
obscure  than  knowledge,  but  clearer  than  ignorance  ? 
Far,  said  he.  Does  it  lie  then  between  them  both  ?  Yes. 
Opinion  then  is  between  the  two  ?  Entirely  so.  And 
have  we  not  already  said,  that  if  anything  appeared  of 
such  a  nature,  as  at  once  to  exist  and  yet  not  exist,  such 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


197 


a  thing  would  lie  between  what  really  exists,  and  that 
which  has  no  existence  at  all,  and  neither  science  nor 
ignorance  would  take  cognizance  of  it,  but  that  only 
which  appeared  to  be  between  ignorance  and  science  ? 
Right.  And  now,  what  we  call  opinion  has  been  shown 
to  lie  between  them.    It  has  been  so  shown. 

Chap.  XX*II.  This  then  yet  remains  for  us,  as  it  seems, 
to  discover, —  what  participates  in  both  —  that  is,  being, 
and  non-being,  and  what  can  properly  be  called  neither  of 
them  perfectly, — so  that  if  it  seems  to  be  what  it  is 
reputed,  we  may  with  justice  term  it  so,  assigning  to  the 
extremes  what  are  extreme,  and  to  the  middle  what  are 
between  the  two :  —  must  we  not  ?  Just  so.  These  things 
being  determined,  I  will  say,  let  this  worthy  man  tell 
and  answer  me, — he  who  reckons  that  there  is  neither 
beauty,  nor  idea  of  beauty,  always  the  same ;  but  that 
lover  of  beautiful  objects  reckons  that  there  are  many 
beautiful  objects,  not  enduring  to  be  told  that  there  is 
only  one  beautiful,  and  one  just,  and  so  of  the  rest.  Of 
all  these  many  things,  excellent  man!  shall  we  say, 
whether  there  be  any  which  will  not  appear  deformed, 
and  of  those  just  which  will  not  appear  unjust,  and  of 
those  holy  which  will  not  appear  profane  ?  No ;  but  said 
he,  the  objects  themselves  must  in  some  respects  neces- 
sarily appear  both  beautiful  and  deformed,  and  whatever 
else  you  ask.  But  what?  —  Do  double  quantities  gener- 
ally seem  to  have  less  capacity  for  being  halves  than  the 
doubles  [of  others]  ?  Not  at  all.  And  things  great  and 
small,  light  and  heavy,  are  they  to  be  termed  what  we  call 
them,  any  more  than  the  opposite  ?  No ;  said  he :  each 
of  them,  always  participates  of  both.  Is  then,  or  is  not, 
each  of  these  many  things  just  what  it  is  said  to  be  ?  It 
resembles  their  equivocal  jokes  at  feasts,  said  he,  and  the 
riddle  of  children  about  the  eunuch's  striking  the  bat, 
with  what  and  on  what  part  they  guess  he  strikes  it ;  for  all 
these  things  have  a  double  meaning,  and  it  is  impossible  to 
know  accurately  whether  they  are,  or  are  not, — or  are 
both,  or  neither  of  the  two.  How  can  you  act  with  them 
then,  said  I,  or  what  better  position  have  you  for  them 
than  a  medium  between  being  and  non-being  ?    For  noth- 


198 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


ing  seems  more  obscure  than  non-being  as  compared  with 
having  no  being  at  all,  nor  more  clear  than  being  in  re- 
spect of  real  being.  Most  true,  said  he.  We  have  dis- 
covered then,  it  seems,  that  most  of  the  maxims  of  the 
people  about  the  beautiful,  and  those  other  things,  fluc- 
tuate somehow  between  being  and  non-being.  Yes,  we 
have  discovered  it.  But  it  was  formerly  agreed  at  least, 
that  if  such  a  thing  were  apparent,  it  ought  to  be  called 
that  which  is  opined,  and  not  what  is  known;  and  that 
which  fluctuates  between  the  two  is  to  be  perceived  by 
the  intermediate  faculty.  We  agreed.  Those  then,  who 
contemplate  many  beautiful  things,  but  yet  never  perceive 
beauty  itself,  and  cannot  follow  another  who  would  lead 
them  to  it, — and  many  just  things,  though  not  justice 
itself,  and  all  other  things  in  like  manner,  these  persons, 
we  will  say,  hold  opinions  on  all  things,  yet  have  no 
accurate  knowledge  of  what  they  opine.  It  must  be  so, 
said  he.  But  what  then,  as  regards  those  who  perceive 
each  of  the  objects  themselves,  always  existing  in  the 
same  manner,  and  in  the  same  relations, —  shall  we  not 
say  that  they  know,  and  do  not  opine  ?  This  must  be  the 
case  also.  And  shall  we  not  say,  that  these  embrace  and 
love  the  things  of  which  they  have  knowledge,  and  the 
ethers  the  things  of  which  they  entertain  only  opinions; 
—  and  remember  we  not,  that  we  alleged  them  to  behold 
and  love  fine  sounds  and  colors,  and  such  things ;  though 
beauty  itself  they  do  not  admit  to  have  any  real  being  ? 
Yes, — we  remember.  Shall  Ave  be  wrong  then  in  calling 
them  lovers  of  opinion,  rather  than  philosophers  ?  And 
yet  they  will  be  g^reatly  enraged  at  us,  if  we  call  them 
so.  Not,  if  they  be  persuaded  by  me,  said  he;  for  it  is 
not  right  to  be  enraged  at  the  truth.  Those  then  who 
embrace  and  love  what  has  real  being,  we  must  call 
philosophers,  and  not  lovers  of  opinion  ?    Most  assuredly. 


BOOK  VI. 


ARGUMENT, 

In  the  SIXTH  book, — continuing  the  argfument  respecting  the  indis- 
pensability  of  true  philosophy  to  a  well-ordered  state,  and  the 
absolute  need  of  distinguishing  true  from  false  philosophy  (/.  e.,  that 
of  the  sophists  which  throws  discredit  on  the  whole  pursuit),  and  like- 
wise from  what  is  warped  by  prejudice,  he  goes  on  to  show  that  a  state 
will  be  blessed  with  philosophers  for  rulers,  and  shows  what  is  the 
true  subject  of  true  philosophy,  as  well  as  the  means  and  manner 
of  learning  it, —  the  sum  of  which  is,  that  a  good  i^iiTja^  must  be 
provided  with  all  the  defenses  of  true  science,  not  with  a  view  to 
unprofitable  speculations,  but  that  all  science  and  all  virtue,  his 
moral  clothing,  may  be  considered  with  reference  to  its  real  bear- 
ing on  the  common  good  of  human  society.  Philosophy,  says  Plato, 
has  for  its  proper  subject  the  idea  of  good  (the  true  end  of  be- 
ing), and  this  being  the  subject,  he  next  goes  on  to  show  the 
mode  of  becoming  acquainted  therewith. 

Chapter  I.  Philosophers,  then,  Glaucon,  said  I,  and 
those  who  are  not  so,  have,  at  length,  after  a  long  parade 
of  talk  and  with  some  difficulty,  been,  respectively  defined. 
Aye,  said  he,  for  perhaps,  it  was  not  easy  to  do  it  briefly. 
It  appears  not,  said  I.  I  still  think,  however,  that  their 
qualities  would  have  been  better  exhibited,  had  we  deemed 
it  right  to  speak  about  this  alone,  and  not  discussed  a 
multitude  of  other  matters  while  considering  the  differ- 
ence between  a  just  and  an  unjust  life.  What,  then,  said 
he,  are  we  to  consider  next  ?  What  else,  said  I,  but 
that  which  is  next  in  order  ?  Since  those  are  philoso- 
phers who  are  able  to  concern  themselves  with  what  al- 
ways maintains  a  constant  relation,  whereas  those  who 
cannot  affect  this,  but  ruminate  among  a  host  of  [material 
objects]  that  are  every  way  shifting,  are  not  philoso- 
phers ;  which  of  these  ought  to  be  the  rulers  of  the  state  ? 
Which  way,  said  he,  shall  we  define  the  matter,  and  de- 
fine correctly  ?    Such  of  them,  said  I,  as  seem  capable 

(199) 


200 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


of  preserving  the  laws  and  institutions  of  states,  these 
are  to  be  made  guardians.  Right,  said  he.  This,  then, 
said  I,  is  of  course  evident,  whether  we  ought  to  seek 
for  a  guardian  one  that  is  blind  or  one  that  is  sharp- 
sighted.  Of  course,  that  is  quite  evident,  said  he.  What 
difference,  then,  is  there  between  blind  persons  and  those 
who  are  in  fact  deprived  of  the  knowledge  of  each  in- 
dividual essence,  and  have  no  clear  demonstration  of  it 
in  the  soul,  and  cannot  (like  painters  who  look  at  what 
is  positively  true,  and  refer  everything  thereto,  examin- 
ing it  with  all  possible  accuracy),  if  need  be,  form  set- 
tled notions  of  the  beautiful,  just,  and  good,  and  so 
maintain  them,  as  if  sanctioned  by  law  ?  No,  by  Zeus, 
said  he;  they  do  not  differ  much.  Shall  we  then  rather 
appoint  these  as  our  guardians,  or  those  rather  who  know 
each  individual  being,  and  in  experience  are  not  at  all 
inferior  to  those  others,  nor  behind  them  in  any  other 
department  of  virtue  ?  It  were  absurd,  said  he,  to  choose 
any  others,  if  at  least  they  be  not  deficient  in  all  other 
matters;  since  they  excel  in  this,  which  is  the  most  im- 
portant. Must  we  not  inquire  this,  then,  in  what  manner 
the  same  persons  will  be  able  to  have  both  the  one  and 
the  other  ?  *  Certainly.  As  we  observed,  then,  at  the 
opening  of  this  discussion,  we  must  first  of  all  thoroughly 
understand  their  disposition;  and  I  think,  if  we  are 
pretty  well  agreed  about  that,  we  shall  agree  also,  that 
the  same  persons  are  able  to  possess  both  these  quali- 
ties; and  none  else  but  these  ought  to  be  the  governors 
of  states.    How  so  ? 

Chap.  II.  Let  us  then  so  far  agree  about  philosophic 
dispositions,  that  as  respects  learning  they  always  covet 
that  which  discovers  to  them  that  ever-existing  essence 
which  does  not  vary  through  generation  or  corruption.  Let 
it  be  agreed.  And  likewise,  said  I,  that  they  desire  the 
whole  of  such  learning,  and  do  not  willingly  omit  any 
part  of  it,  either  small  or  great,  more  honorable  or  more 
dishonorable,  as  we  formerly  observed   concerning  the 

*Gr.  KOKelva  koI  ravra  f;tE(v, —  that  is  both  a  practical  acquaintance  and 
experience  of  things,  and  a  more  subtle  and  scientific  knowledge  of 
truth. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


20I 


ambitious  and  those  engaged  in  love.  You  say  right, 
said  he. 

Consider,  then,  in  the  next  place,  whether,  besides  what 
we  have  mentioned,  it  would  be  necessary  for  those  who 
be  such  as  we  have  described,  to  have  this  also  in  their 
natures.  What  ?  Freedom  from  falsehood,  and  never 
willingly  to  admit  a  lie,  but  rather  to  hate  it  through 
love  of  truth.  It  probably  would,  replied  he.  It  is  not 
only  probable,  my  friend,  but  quite  necessary,  that  one 
who  naturally  loves  a  thing  shotild  love  everything  that 
is  allied  and  belongs  to  the  object  of  his  affection.  Right, 
said  he.  Is  there  anything  that  you  can  find  more  nearly 
allied  to  wisdom  than  truth  ?  I  cannot,  said  he.  Is  it 
possible,  then,  for  the  same  disposition  to  be  both  philo- 
sophic, and  fond  of  falsehood  ?  By  no  means.  He,  then, 
who  is  really  a  lover  of  learning,  ought  from  early  infancy 
wholly  to  desire  all  truth  ?  By  all  means.  But  we  know, 
somehow,  that  whoever  has  his  desires  vehemently  set  on 
one  object,  for  this  very  reason  has  them  weaker  as  re- 
gards other  things,  — just  as  a  current  diverted  from  its 
channel.  Certainly.  Whoever,  then,  has  his  desires  run- 
ning out  after  learning  and  such  like  matters,  would  be 
engaged,  methinks,  with  the  pleasure  of  the  soul  itself, 
and  forsake  the  pleasures  arising  from  the  body,  if,  indeed, 
he  be  not  a  pretender,  but  a  real  philosopher.  This  of 
course  must  necessarily  follow.  Such  an  one,  moreover, 
is  prudent,  and  by  no  means  fond  of  money ;  for  the  rea- 
sons why  money  is  so  anxiously  sought  at  so  great  a 
sacrifice  are  likely  to  make  any  one  anxious  rather  than 
a  man  like  this.  Certainly.  And  surely  you  should  con- 
sider this  too,  when  deciding  about  a  philosophic  dispo- 
sition, and  one  that  is  not  so.  What  ?  That  it  shall 
not  unconsciously  take  an  illiberal  turn,  since  narrow- 
mindedness  is  most  revolting  to  a  soul  that  is  ever 
earnestly  pursuing  all  that  is  divine  and  human.  Most 
true,  said  he.  Think  you,  then,  that  he  who  possesses 
magnificent  intellectual  conceptions  and  can  contemplate 
all  time  and  all  being,  can  possibly  consider  human  life  as 
a  thing  of  great  consequence  ?  It  is  impossible,  said  he. 
Such  an  one,  then,  will  not  regard  death  as  anything  terri- 
ble.   Least  of  all,  surely.    It  seems,  then,  that  a  cowardly 


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and  illiberal  disposition  will  not  readily  connect  itself 
with  true  philosophy.  I  do  not  think  it  will.  What  then ; 
can  the  well-disposed  man,  who  has  moderate  desires, 
and  is  not  a  lover  of  money,  nor  illiberal,  nor  arrogant, 
nor  cowardly,  ever  possibly  be  unjust,  or  a  breaker  of 
engagements  ?  It  is  impossible.  And  this  also  you  will 
likewise  consider,  when  viewing  from  its  very  source  what 
is  and  is  not  a  philosophic  soul,  whether  it  be  just  and 
gentle,  or  unsocial  and  savage.  By  all  means.  Neither, 
as  I  think,  will  you  omit  this.  What  ?  Whether  it  learn 
easily  or  with  difficulty:  in  fact,  do  you  expect  that  a 
person  will  ever  love  a  thing  sufficiently,  while  he  is  un- 
easy in  its  performance,  and  makes  but  small  progress  ? 
It  cannot  be.  But  what  if  he  be  oblivious  and  retains 
nothing  of  what  he  learns,  can  he  then  possibly  acquire 
science  ?  How  is  it  possible  ?  And  when  he  thus  vainly 
labors,  think  you  not  that  he  will  be  forced  at  last  to 
hate  both  himself  and  such  employment  ?  Of  course  he 
must.  We  can  never  reckon,  then,  among  philosophic 
souls,  that  which  is  forgetful;  but  we  shall  on  the  other 
hand  require  it  to  have  a  good  memory  ?  By  all  means. 
And  we  can  never  say  this  at  any  rate,  that  an  un- 
musical and  ill-regulated  disposition  leads  anywhere  but 
toward  irregularity.  Where  else  should  it  ?  But  as  regards 
truth,  think  you  it  is  allied  to  irregularity  or  regularity  ?  To 
regularity.  Let  us  require,  then,  in  addition  to  all  other 
qualities,  an  intellect  naturally  well-regulated  and  gracious 
as  a  willing  and  naturally  well-disposed  guide  in  realizing 
the  idea  of  individual  being.  Of  course.  What  then ;  do 
you  not  think,  that  we  have  in  some  measure  discussed 
the  necessary  qualifications,  and  such  as  are  mutually  con- 
nected in  a  soul  that  would  attain  a  fitting  and  perfect  ap- 
prehension of  being  ?  Aye,  the  most  necessary,  said  he. 
Can  you  then  anyhow  blame  such  a  study  as  this,  which 
a  man  can  never  sufficiently  pursue,  unless  he  has  a 
naturally  good  memory,  learns  with  facility,  and  is  gener- 
ous, kind-hearted,  the  friend  and  ally  of  truth,  justice, 
manliness,  and  temperance  ?  Not  even  Momus  himself, 
said  he,  could  find  fault  with  such  a  study.  Aye,  said  I, 
and  will  it  not  be  to  such  as  these  alone,  when  perfected 
by  education  and  age,  that  you  will  intrust  the  state  ? 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


203 


Chap.  III.  Then  said  Adimantus:  No  one,  indeed, 
Socrates,  can  contradict  you  on  these  points;  but  all 
who  from  time  to  time  hear  you  advancing-  what  you 
do  at  present,  feel  somehow  thus;  being  led  a  little 
astray  by  your  reasoning  on  each  question,  through  inex- 
perience in  this  mode  of  question  and  answer,  when  all 
these  littles  are  collected  together,  they  reckon  at  the 
close  of  the  discussion  that  the  mistake  appears  consid- 
erable, and  the  contrary  of  their  first  concession;  and 
just  as  those  who  play  at  talus  with  such  as  are  dexter- 
ous, themselves  being  unskilful,  are  in  the  end  driven 
into  a  comer  and  cannot  move  a  piece,  so  your  hearers 
have  nothing  to  say,  being  driven  into  a  corner,  at  this 
different  kind  of  play,  not  with  the  dice,  but  your  reason- 
ings; though  the  truth  at  least  is  not  thus  at  all  ad- 
vanced. I  say  this  with  reference  to  the  present  inquiry; 
for  a  person  may  tell  you  that  he  has  nothing  to  allege 
as  an  argument  against  your  questions  individually,  but 
sees  in  fact  that  all  those  who  plunge  into  philosophy 
do  not  pursue  it  with  the  view  of  being  taught  in  it 
during  childhood,  and  liberated  from  it  when  they  arrive 
at  mature  age,  but  rather  in  order  that  they  may  con- 
tinue in  it  much  longer,  becoming  most  of  them  quite 
perverse,  not  to  say,  altogether  depraved;  while  even 
such  of  them  as  appear  most  worthy,  are  still  so  far 
affected  by  this  pursuit  that  you  so  much  commend,  as 
to  become  useless  to  the  public.  When  I  had  heard 
this,  I  said,  think  you  then,  that  such  as  say  these 
things  are  telling  a  falsehood  ?  I  know  not,  said  he ; 
but  I  should  like  to  hear  what  is  your  opinion. 

You  will  hear  then,  that  in  my  opinion  they  speak 
the  truth.  How,  replied  he,  can  it  be  right  to  say  that 
the  miseries  of  states  are  never  to  come  to  a  close,  till 
they  be  governed  by  philosophers,  whom  we  now 
acknowledge  as  useless  thereto  ?  You  ask  a  question,  said 
I,  which  needs  a  figurative  reply.  And  yet  said  I,  I  do 
not  think  you  usually  speak  by  figures. 

Chap.  IV.  Granted,  said  I;  and  are  you  not  jesting 
me,  after  having  involved  me  in  a  subject  so  hard  of  ex- 
planation ?    Yet  attend  to  the  comparison,  in  order  that 


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you  may  the  better  see  how  nicely  I  make  it;  fcr  the 
sufferings  of  the  best  philosophers  in  the  management  of 
public  affairs  are  so  grievous  that  there  is  not  one  other 
suffering  so  severe:  but  in  making  our  simile,  and  put- 
ting in  a  defense  for  them,  we  must  collect  from  many 
particulars,  in  the  same  way  as  painters  mingle  together 
different  figures,  and  paint  a  creature  both  goat  and  stag 
in  one,  and  others  of  the  same  kind.  Conceive  now  such 
a  person  as  this  to  be  the  pilot  of  a  fleet  or  a  single 
ship,  one  who  surpasses  all  in  the  ship  both  in  bulk  and 
strength,  but  is  somewhat  deaf,  and  short-sighted  as  well, 
and  whose  skill  in  nautical  affairs  is  much  of  the  same 
kind;  and  also  that  the  sailors  are  all  quarreling  among 
each  other  about  the  pilotage,  each  thinking  he  ought  to 
be  pilot,  though  he  never  learned  the  art,  and  cannot 
show  who  was  his  master,  nor  at  what  time  he  got  his 
learning;  that  besides  this,  they  all  say  that  the  art  itself 
cannot  be  tatight,  and  are  ready  to  cut  in  pieces  any  one 
who  says  that  it  can.  Imagine  further,  that  they  are 
constantly  crowding  round  the  pilot  himself,  begging,  and 
forming  all  schemes  to  induce  him  to  commit  the  helm 
into  their  hands,  and  that  sometimes  even,  when  they  do 
not  so  well  succeed  in  persuading  him  as  others  may, 
they  either  kill  these  others,  or  throw  them  overboard, 
and  after  having,  by  mandragora  or  wine  or  something 
else,  rendered  the  noble  pilot  incapable,  they  manage  the 
ship  by  aid  of  the  crew,  and  sail  on,  thus  drinking 
and  feasting,  as  may  be  expected  of  such  people;  and 
besides  this,  if  any  one  be  clever  at  assisting  them  in 
getting  the  management  into  their  own  hands,  and  either 
by  persuasion  or  force,  setting  aside  the  pilot,  they  praise 
such  an  one,  calling  him  sailor  and  pilot,  and  versed  in 
navigation,  but  despise  as  useless  every  one  not  of  this  char- 
acter, not  in  the  least  considering  that  the  true  pilot  must 
necessarily  study  the  year,  the  seasons,  the  heavens,  and 
stars,  and  winds,  and  everything  belonging  to  his  art,  if  he 
would  be  a  real  commander  of  a  ship;  but  at  the  same 
time  as  respects  the  art  and  practice  of  governing  men, 
whether  some  be  willing  or  not,  they  think  it  impossible 
for  a  man  to  attain  it  in  connection  with  the  art  of 
navigation.    Whilst  affairs  are  thus  situated  as  regards 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


205 


ships,  do  yoti  not  think  that  the  true  pilot  will  be  called 
by  the  sailors  on  board  of  ships  thus  regulated,  a  mere 
star-gazer,  trifler,  and  of  no  use  to  them  whatever  ?  Un- 
doubtedly, said  Adimantus.  I  think  then,  said  I,  that  you 
do  not  want  this  comparison  explained,  in  order  to  see 
that  it  represents  how  people  feel  in  states  toward  true 
philosophers,  but  that  you  quite  understand  what  I  mean. 
Perfectly,  said  he.  First  of  all  then,  as  regards  this, 
namely,  a  person's  wondering  that  philosophers  are  not 
honored  in  states,  you  mtist  acquaint  him  with  our  com- 
parison, and  try  to  persuade  him,  that  it  would  be  much 
more  wonderful  if  they  were  honored.  I  will  so,  replied 
he.  And  further,  that  it  is  quite  true,  as  you  were  just 
observing,  that  the  best  of  those  who  study  philosophy 
are  useless  to  the  bulk  of  mankind;  but  nevertheless,  for 
all  this,  they  intend  to  lay  the  blame  not  on  the  philos- 
ophers, but  on  such  as  make  no  use  of  them,  for  it  is 
not  natural  that  the  pilot  should  beg  of  the  sailors  to 
allow  him  to  govern  them,  nor  that  the  wise  should  hold 
attendance  at  the  gate  of  the  rich;  and  whoever  wittily 
said  this  was  mistaken;  for  this  indeed  is  the  natural 
method,  that  whoever  is  sick,  whether  rich  or  poor,  must 
necessarily  go  to  the  gates  of  the  physician,  and  Vv^hoever 
wants  to  be  governed  must  wait  on  a  person  able  to 
govern;  for  it  is  not  natural  that  a  really  worthy  gov- 
ernor should  beg  of  the  governed  to  subject  themselves 
to  his  government.  You  will  not  be  far  wrong,  however, 
in  comparing  our  present  political  governors  to  those 
sailors  we  now  mentioned,  and  those  whom  they  call  in- 
significant  and  star-gazers  to  those  who  are  truly  pilots. 
Quite  right,  said  he.  Hence,  then,  it  would  seem,  that 
the  best  pursuit  is  not  likely  to  be  held  in  much  honor 
by  persons  engaged  in  those  of  an  opposite  nature,  but 
by  far  the  greatest  and  most  violent  outcry  against  phi- 
losophy is  caused  by  those  who  profess  its  study;  the  very 
persons  whom  most  of  all,  you  say,  your  reviler  of  phi- 
losophy calls  downright  wicked,  and  the  very  best  useless ; 
and  I  agreed  that  you  spoke  correctly,  did  I  not  ?  Yes. 

Chap.  V.  Have  we  not  now  fully  explained  the  cause, 
why  the  best  of  them  are  useless  ?    We  have.    Do  you 


2o6 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


wish,  then,  that  we  should  next  explain  the  reason,  why 
most  of  them  must  necessarily  be  depraved,  and  try  also 
to  show,  that  philosophy  is  not  the  cause  of  this.  Cer- 
tainly. Let  us  open  our  argument  then,  by  carefully 
calling  to  mind  what  we  before  observed  about  the  natural 
disposition  necessarily  belonging  to  the  good  and  worthy 
[  philosopher] ;  and  if  you  remember,  the  leading  part 
therein  was  truth,  which  he  must  by  all  means  wholly 
pursue,  or  else  be  a  vain  boaster,  having  no  fellowship 
with  true  philosophy.  Aye,  so  it  was  said.  Is  not  this 
single  part  of  his  character  wholly  the  reverse  of  what  is 
at  present  held  respecting  him  ?  Quite  so,  replied  he. 
We  shall  be  urging,  therefore,  no  trifling  argument  in  his 
defense,  if  we  can  show  that  the  true  lover  of  learning 
is  naturally  inclined  to  aspire  after  the  knowledge  of 
real  being,  and,  so  far  from  being  arrested  by  the  numer- 
ous individual  things  which  are  the  objects  of  opinion, 
that  he  proceeds  undauntedly  forward  and  desists  not 
from  his  love  of  truth  till  he  becomes  acquainted  with 
the  nature  of  all  existing  things  through  the  agency  of 
that  part  of  the  soul  whose  business  it  is  to  take  cogni- 
zance of  such  matters :  but  it  is  the  office  of  that  part  of 
the  soul  which  is  allied  [  to  real  being] ;  and  when  this 
true  lover  of  learning  approaches  thus  far,  and  mingles 
therewith,  thus  giving  rise  to  intellect  and  truth,  he  will 
attain  to  true  knowledge,  and  truly  live  and  be  main- 
tained, and  at  length  become  liberated  from  the  pains  of 
production,  but  not  before.  As  good  a  defense,  said  he, 
as  there  possibly  can  be.  What  then;  will  it  be  a  part 
of  such  a  person's  business  to  love  falsehood,  or  quite 
the  contrary,  to  hate  it  ?  To  hate  it,  said  he.  While 
truth,  however,  leads  the  way,  we  can  never  say,  I  think, 
that  any  band  of  evils  follows  in  her  train  ?  No,  we 
cannot.  But  on  the  contrary,  sound  and  just  morals,  ac- 
companied with  temperance  ?  Right,  said  he.  Well  then; 
is  it  necessary  that  we  again  examine  and  rearrange  all 
the  qualities  of  a  philosophic  nature  ?  for,  no  doubt,  you 
remember  that  men  of  this  character  possess  fortitude, 
magnanimity,  aptitude  for  learning,  and  a  good  memory; 
and  when  you  said  by  way  of  rejoinder,  that  every  one 
would  be  compelled  to  agree  to  our  statement,  we  quitted 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


207 


that  subject,  and  turned  to  the  subject  of  our  present 
discourse,  your  assertion  of  having  found  some  of  the 
philosophers  useless,  and  the  majority  also  completely 
depraved.  And  in  investigating  the  cause  of  that  calumny, 
we  are  at  length  come  to  inquire,  how  it  is  that  the 
greater  part  of  them  are  bad ;  and  on  this  account  we  have 
again  analyzed  the  nature  of  true  philosophers,  and  neces- 
sarily defined  it.    It  is  so,  said  he. 

Chap.  VI.  We  must  therefore  consider,  said  I,  the 
corruptions  of  this  nature,  how  it  becomes  ruined  in 
many,  so  that  only  some  few  escape,  whom  men  call  not 
depraved,  but  useless ;  and  next  we  must  consider  those 
dispositions  that  counterfeit  this  nature,  and  only  pretend 
to  pursue  it,  and  what  is  the  nature  also  of  those  souls 
which  aspire  to  a  pursuit  not  belonging  to  them,  and 
above  their  reach:  for  these  persons,  by  their  multiplied 
errors,  have  everywhere  and  among  all  men,  attached 
this  opinion  to  philosophy  which  you  are  now  mention- 
ing. To  what  kind  of  corruptions,  said  he,  do  you  allude  ? 
I  will  try  to  recount  them,  said  I,  if  I  can.  And  this 
now,  methinks,  every  one  will  allow  us,  that  such  a 
nature,  with  all  the  qualifications  that  we  just  now 
enjoined  to  a  person  aspiring  to  be  a  perfect  philosopher, 
is  rarely  to  be  found  among  men,  and  of  these  there  are 
but  very  few :  do  you  not  think  so  ?  Quite  so.  And 
among  those  few,  just  consider  how  many  and  how  great 
are  the  causes  of  corruption.  What  are  they  ?  The  most 
surprising  of  all  to  hear,  namely,  that  of  those  qualities 
which  we  commended  in  the  nature  of  a  philosopher, 
each  corrupts  the  soul  possessing  them,  and  withdraws 
it  from  philosophy — from  fortitude,  I  mean,  and  temper- 
ance, and  all  those  other  qualities  which  we  enumerated. 
That  is  a  strange  saying,  said  he.  And  further  still, 
said  I;  besides  these  things,  all  that  are  commonly  called 
good,  such  as  beauty,  riches,  bodily  strength,  a  powerful 
family  connection  in  the  state,  and  all  that  relates  to 
these,  corrupt  and  withdraw  it  from  philosophy:  there, 
you  now  have  the  outline  of  what  I  mean.  I  have,  he 
replied,  and  would  be  glad  more  clearly  to  understand 
what  you  say.    Apprehend,  therefore,  the  whole  of  it 


2o8 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


aright,  said  I ;  and  it  will  become  perfectly  clear,  and 
what  we  before  said  will  not  be  thought  absurd.  How, 
then,  said  he,  do  you  bid  me  act  ?  With  respect  to  every 
kind  of  seed,  or  plant,  said  I,  whether  of  vegetables  or 
animals,  we  know  that  what  is  not  properly  nurtured 
and  has  not  its  proper  nourishment,  or  season,  or  place, 
the  stronger  it  is,  so  many  more  kindly  influences  does 
it  require,  for  evil  is  more  contrary  to  good,  than  to  that 
which  is  not  good.  Of  course.  It  is  reasonable  then,  I 
suppose,  that  the  very  best  nature,  if  supported  on  diet 
unsuited  to  it,  should  become  worse  than  one  which  is 
inferior  ?  It  is.  Well,  then,  Adimantus,  said  I,  are  we 
to  say,  that  souls  naturally  the  best,  if  badly  trained, 
become  more  than  commonly  depraved;  or  think  you  that 
gross  iniquity  and  extreme  wickedness  arise  from  an 
inferior  rather  than  from  a  good  disposition  ruined  in  its 
education ;  whereas  a  weak  disposition  will  never  produce 
either  great  good  or  great  evil  ?  No,  I  think  not,  said 
he;  and  the  case  is  as  you  say.  If  then  this  philosophic 
nature,  that  we  have  here  defined,  meet  with  suitable 
training,  it  will  of  necessity  grow  up,  I  suppose,  and 
attain  to  every  virtue;  but  if  it  be  sown  in  an  improper 
soil,  and  grow  up  and  be  nurtured  accordingly,  it  will 
become  quite  the  reverse,  unless  one  of  the  gods  should 
by  chance  come  to  its  assistance ;  think  you  then,  as  most 
do,  that  some  youths  are  corrupted  by  sophists,  and  that 
these  sophists  are  men  in  private  life  who  corrupt  them  in 
any  manner  soever  that  is  worthy  of  their  attention ;  or 
rather,  that  the  very  persons  who  say  these  things 
are  themselves  the  greatest  sophists,  conveying  their 
instruction  with  most  perfect  skill,  and  rendering  young 
and  old,  men  and  women,  such  as  they  wish  them  to  be  ? 
When  is  that  ?  said  he.  When  many  of  them,  said  I,  are 
seated  and  crowded  together  in  an  assembly,  in  their 
law-courts,  theaters  camps,  or  other  public  meetings  of 
the  people,  and  when  they  blame  with  much  tumult  some 
speeches  and  acts,  and  commend  others,  shouting  and 
stamping,  [to  see]  which  shall  outvie  the  other;  and 
besides  this,  the  echo  from  the  rocks  and  the  place  where 
they  are  sitting,  redoubles  the  tumult  of  their  disappro- 
bation and  applause;  in  such  a  situation  as  this,  what 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


kind  of  heart,  as  the  saying-  is,  do  you  think  the  youth 
has;  or  what  private  instruction  can  so  restrain  him,  as 
to  prevent  him  from  being  quite  overwhelmed  by  such 
blame  or  applause,  and  from  yielding  and  being  carried 
along  the  stream  wherever  it  bears  him ;  and  will  he  not 
call  things  beautiful  and  base,  according  as  these  people 
call  them,  and  just  as  they  pursue  them,  thus  becoming 
the  very  same  character  ?  This,  said  he,  must  of  course 
be  the  case,  Socrates. 

Chap.  VII.  And  yet,  said  I,  we  have  not  yet  men- 
tioned what  is  the  greatest  necessity  of  all.  What  is  that  ? 
said  he.  What  these,  your  teachers  and  sophists,  add,  by 
way  of  acts  to  their  talk,  when  they  cannot  persuade: 
know  you  not  that  they  punish  with  disgraces  and  fines 
and  deaths,  the  man ,  whom  they  cannot  persuade  ?  I 
know  that,  said  he,  extremely  well.  What  other  sophist 
then,  or  what  private  reasonings,  do  you  think,  will  coun- 
teract and  overpower  these  ?  I  know  none,  said  he.  Is 
it  not  besides,  said  I,  great  folly  also  even  to  attempt  it  ? 
For  there  neither  is,  nor  was,  nor  can  ever  possibly  be, 
any  other  system  as  regards  virtue,  to  be  compared  with 
this  education  by  the  sophists,  I  mean  a  human  method, 
my  friend;  for  a  divine  one,  according  to  the  proverb, 
we  keep  out  of  the  question.  Indeed,  you  must  well 
know,  with  respect  to  whatever  is  preserved,  and  becomes 
what  it  ought  in  such  a  constitution  of  government,  that 
you  will  not  be  far  wrong  in  deeming  it  preserved  by 
divine  destiny.  Nor  am  I,  said  he,  of  a  different  opinion. 
But  further  now,  besides  this,  said  I,  you  must 
also  be  of  this  opinion.  Of  what  ?  That  each  of 
these  hired  private  teachers,  whom  these  men  call 
sophists  and  consider  as  rival  artists,  teach  nothing 
else  but  those  dogmas  of  the  vulgar,  which  they 
approve  in  their  assemblies,  and  term  wisdom;  just 
as  if  a  man  were  to  learn  the  tempers  and  desires  of  a 
great  and  strong  animal  that  he  is  training,  how  it  miist 
be  approached,  how  touched,  and  when  it  is  most  fierce 
or  most  mild,  and  from  what  sorts  it  springs,  and  the 
sounds  also  which  it  is  used  occasionally  to  utter,  and  by 
what  sounds  when  uttered  by  another,  this  beast  is  ren- 
14 


2IO 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


dered  either  gentle  or  savage;  and  if,  after  learning  all 
these  things  by  long  associating  with  this  animal,  he 
should  call  this  wisdom  and,  apply  himself  to  the  teach- 
ing thereof,  as  to  an  established  art,  while  yet,  as  regards 
these  dogmas  and  desires,  he  has  no  real  knowledge  of 
what  is  beautiful  or  base,  good  or  ill,  just  or  unjust,  but 
defines  them  all  by  the  opinions  of  that  great  animal, 
calling  those  things  good  by  which  it  is  pleased,  and 
those  evil  with  which  it  is  vexed,  having  no  other  measure 
respecting  them,  but  calling  things  necessary  both  just 
and  beautiful,  though  he  has  never  himself  seen,  nor  can 
show  to  another,  the  nature  of  the  necessary  and  the 
good,  and  how  far  they  really  differ  from  each  other. 
Being  such  as  this,  then,  do  you  not,  by  Zeus,  think  him 
a  ridiculous  teacher  ?  I  do,  he  replied.  And,  think  you,  he 
in  any  way  differs  from  the  man,  who  deems  it  wisdom  to 
have  understood  the  tempers  and  pleasures  of  the  multi- 
tude, and  of  mixed  assemblies,  either  in  painting,  music 
or  politics  ?  For  if  any  one  converse  with  these,  and  show 
them  either  a  poem,  or  other  work  of  art,  or  piece  of 
service  connected  with  the  state,  and  make  the  multitude 
the  judges  thereof,  he  is,  beyond  all  other  necessities, 
under  what  is  called  a  "  Diomedean  "  *  necessity,  that  of  do- 
ing whatever  they  commend.  But  as  respects  these  things 
being  really  good  and  beautiful,  did  you  ever  hear  any  of 
them  advance  a  reason  that  was  not  quite  ridiculous.? 
No;  and  I  think,  said  he,  I  never  shall. 

Chap.  VIII.  Considering  all  these  things,  then,  bear 
this  in  mind,  that  the  multitude  never  will  admit  or 
reckon  that  there  is  the  one  beautiful  itself,  and  not  many 
beautiful,  one  thing  itself  individually  existing,  and  not 

*  A  Diomedean  necessity  is  a  proverbial  expression  applied  to 
those,  who  do  anything  from  necessity;  its  origin  is  as  follows:  Di- 
omedes  and  Ulysses,  having  stolen  the  Palladium  from  Ilium,  returned  by 
night  to  their  ships.  Ulysses,  however,  most  anxious  that  the  glory 
of  the  deed  should  be  his  alone,  endeavored  to  slay  Diomedes,  who 
walked  before  him  with  the  Palladium.  Diomedes,  however,  on  see- 
ing by  moonlight  the  shadow  of  the  sword  raised  over  him,  seized  Ulys- 
ses, bound  his  hands,  bid  him  walk  before  him,  and,  after  striking  him 
on  the  back  with  the  flat  part  of  his  sword,  proceeded  onward,  and  at 
length  reached  the  Argive  camp. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


21  I 


many  such  individual  things.  They  will  be  the  last  to 
do  so,  he  replied.  It  is  impossible,  then,  for  the  multi- 
tude to  be  philosophers.  Impossible.  And  those  who 
philosophize  must  necessarily  be  subject  to  their  reproach  ? 
Necessarily  so.  And  likewise  to  that  of  those  private 
persons,  who,  in  conversing  with  the  multitude,  desire 
to  please  them  ?  Clearly.  In  consequence  of  this,  then, 
what  security  do  you  see  for  the  philosophic  nature  to 
continue  its  pursuit,  and  arrive  at  perfection  ?  And  con- 
sider from  what  has  gone  before;  for  it  has  been  admit- 
ted, that  aptitude  for  learning,  memory,  fortitude,  and 
magnanimity  belong  to  this  kind  of  disposition.  Yes, 
it  has.  Will  not  such  an  one  as  this,  then,  be  the  first 
of  all  men  in  all  things  whatever,  especially  if  he  have 
a  body  naturally  suited  to  his  soul  ?  Of  course  he  will, 
he  replied.  And  when  he  is  further  advanced  in  years, 
his  kindred  and  citizens,  methinks,  will  be  disposed  to 
employ  him  in  their  affairs.  Why  not  ?  As  suppliants 
then  they  will  pay  him  homage,  and  submit  to  him, 
anticipating  and  flattering  before  hand  his  growing  power. 
Aye,  said  he,  such  is  usually  the  case.  What  then,  said 
I,  think  you  such  an  one  will  do  under  such  circum- 
stances, especially  if  he  be  a  member  of  a  great  state, 
rich  and  nobly  born,  handsome  withal  and  of  large 
stature  ?  Will  he  not  be  filled  with  extravagant  hopes, 
deeming  himself  capable  of  managing  the  affairs  both 
of  Greeks  and  barbarians,  and  on  this  account  demean 
himself  loftily,  being  full  of  ostentation  and  vain  conceit, 
but  without  judgment  ?  Quite  so,  he  replied.  If  one 
should  gently  approach  a  man  of  this  disposition,  and 
tell  him  the  truth,  that  he  has  no  judgment,  but  needs 
it;  as  judgment  is  only  to  be  acquired  by  one  who  de- 
votes himself  as  a  slave  to  its  acquisition,  think  you,  that, 
amidst  all  these  evils  it  would  be  easy  for  him  to 
hearken  ?  Far  from  it,  he  replied.  But  if,  said  I,  through 
a  good  natural  temper,  and  innate  attachment  to  reason- 
ing, he  were  to  acquire  penetration,  and  thus  be  bent 
and  drawn  toward  philosophy,  what,  think  we,  will 
those  others  do,  when  they  reckon  on  losing  his  services 
and  company:  will  they  not  by  every  action,  and  every 
speech,  say  and  do  all  to  the  man  to  prevent  his  being 


212 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


persuaded,  and  as  respects  his  adviser,  take  away  all  his 
influence,  both  by  forming  private  plots  and  arraigning 
him  at  public  trials  ?  This,  of  course,  must  necessarily 
be  the  case,  he  replied.  Is  it  likely  then,  that  such  an 
one  as  this  will  be  a  philosopher  ?    Not  at  all. 

Chap.  IX.  You  see  then,  said  I,  that  we  were  not 
wrong  in  saying,  that  even  the  very  essentials  of  the 
philosophic  disposition,  are,  when  badly  directed,  in  some 
measure  the  cause  of  a  falling  off  from  this  pursuit,  as 
well  as  from  those  vulgarly  reputed  goods,  riches,  and 
all  such-like  matters.  No,  certainly,  he  replied;  that 
was  correctly  observed.  Stich  then,  said  I,  admirable 
friend!  is  the  ruin,  such  and  so  great  the  corruption  of  the 
best  nature  for  the  best  of  all  pursuits,  and  which,  as  we 
observe,  is  rarely  elsewhere  to  be  found :  and  among  these 
are  the  men  who  do  the  greatest  harm  both  to  states  and 
private  persons,  and  those  also  who  do  the  greatest 
good,  such  as  are  drawn  to  one  particular  side,  [vis. 
what  is  good] :  whereas  small  talents  do  nothing  great 
for  any  one,  either  private  person  or  state.  Most  true, 
said  he.  Since  those,  then,  who  thus  fall  off,  whose 
chief  business  was  to  apply  to  philosophy,  and  who, 
leaving  her  deserted  and  imperfect,  lead  themselves  a 
life  neither  becoming  nor  true,  while  on  this  same  phi- 
losophy other  unworthy  persons  have  intruded  and  dis- 
graced her,  loading  her  with  reproaches,  such  as  those 
with  which  you  say  her  revilers  reproach  her:  of  those 
who  engage  with  her,  some  are  worth  nothing,  and  most 
of  them  deserve  great  punishments.  Aye,  surely  ,  this, 
replied  he,  is  commonly  said.  Aye,  and  said  too  with 
reason,  replied  I ;  for  other  contemptible  men  seeing  the 
field  unoccupied,  and  the  possession  of  it  followed  by 
dignities  and  honorable  names,  just  like  persons  who  take 
refuge  from  their  prisons  in  the  temples,  these  likewise 
gladly  leap  from  their  trade-crafts  to  philosophy;  such 
of  them  I  mean,  as  are  most  adept  in  their  own  little  art. 
Indeed,  even  in  this  position  of  philosophy,  her  remaining 
dig-nity,  in  comparison  with  all  the  other  arts,  is  still  of 
surpassing  magnificence,  which  dignity  many  eagerly 
covet,  who  yet  are  of  an  imperfect   nature,  and  have 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


21J 


bodies  not  only  deformed  by  their  arts  and  crafts,  but 
souls  likewise  that  are  broken  and  crushed  by  their  servile 
occupations:  must  it  not  necessarily  be  so  ?  Undoubtedly, 
said  he.  Think  you,  then,  said  I,  that  they  at  all  differ 
in  appearance  from  a  bald  and  puny  blacksmith,  who 
having  made  a  little  money,  has  been  newly  liberated 
from  chains,  and  washed  in  the  bath,  with  a  new  robe 
on  him,  just  decked  out  as  a  bridegroom,  presuming,  on 
account  of  his  master's  poverty  and  forlorn  situation,  to 
propose  for  his  daughter's  hand  ?  There  is  no  great  dif- 
ference, replied  he.  What  sort  of  a  race  must  such  as 
these  produce ;  must  it  not  be  bastardly  and  abject  ?  Cer- 
tainly, it  must.  But  what;  when  persons  unworthy  of 
instruction  study  it  and  meddle  with  it  unworthily,  what 
kind  of  sentiments  and  opinions  must  we  say  come  from 
them  ?  Must  they  not  be  such  as  to  be  properly  termed 
sophisms,  and  neither  genuine,  nor  allied  to  true  discre- 
tion ?    Wholly  so,  of  course,  he  replied. 

Chap.  X.  An  extremely  small  number  is  left,  said  I, 
Adimantus,  of  those  who  engage  worthily  in  philosophy, 
men  of  that  noble  and  well-cultivated  nature,  which  some- 
how seeks  retirement,  and  naturally  persists  in  philosophic 
study,  through  the  absence  of  corrupting  tendencies;  or 
it  may  be,  in  a  small  state,  some  mighty  soul  arises,  who 
has  despised  and  wholly  neglected  civil  honors;  and 
there  may  be  some  small  portion  perhaps,  who,  having 
a  naturally  good  disposition,  hold  other  arts  in  just  con- 
tempt, and  then  turn  to  philosophy.  These  the  bridle  of 
our  friend  Theages  will  probably  be  able  to  restrain ;  for 
all  other  things  are  calculated  to  withdraw  Theages  from 
philosophy,  while  the  care  of  his  health  occupies  him  to 
the  exclusion  of  politics :  *  and  as  to  what  concerns  my- 
self, namely  the  sign  of  my  demon,  it  is  not  worth  while 
to  mention  that;  for  I  think  it  has  heretofore  been  met 
with  only  by  one  other,  if  any  at  all.    And  even  of  these 

*  Theages  is  stated  in  the  «  Apology  of  Socrates  (p.  33  c)  to  be  the 
son  of  Demodocus  and  the  brother  of  Paralus,  and  to  have  been  most 
desirous  of  attaining  to  a  knowledge  of  the  Socratic  philosophy;  and 
we  are  here  told  that  his  delicate  health  hindered  him  from  persever- 
ing in  its  pursuit;  so  true  is  the  saying  of  Plutarch  (de  Sanit.  tuend. 
p.  126  b),  ivh)ao<l>Eiv  appuariai  TroA/loiif  Trapexovoiv. 


214 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


few  [they  are]  such  as  taste,  and  have  tasted,  how  sweet 
and  blessed  is  the  acquisition  of  philosophy,  and  have 
withal  sufficiently  observed  the  madness  of  the  multitude, 
and  that  none  of  them,  as  I  may  say,  does  what  is  whole- 
some in  state  matters,  and  that  a  man  can  get  none  to 
aid  him  in  securely  succoring-  the  just,  but  is  like  one 
falling  among  wild  beasts,  neither  willing  nor  able  to  aid 
them  in  doing  wrong,  as  one  only  against  a  host  of  wild 
creatures,  and  so  without  doing  any  good  either  to  the 
state  or  his  friends,  perishes  unprofitably  to  all  the  world. 
Quietly  reasoning  on  all  these  things,  and  attending  to 
his  own  affairs,  like  a  man  sheltered  under  a  wall  in  a 
storm  of  dust  and  foam  borne  along  on  the  wind,  by 
which  he  sees  all  about  him  overwhelmed  in  disorder, 
such  an  one  is  content  anyhow  to  pass  his  life  pure  from 
injustice  and  unholy  deeds,  and  to  effect  his  exit  hence 
with  good  hopes  cheerful  and  agreeable.  Aye,  and  he 
will  make  his  exit,  said  he,  without  having  done  even 
the  least  of  them.  Nor  the  greatest  either,  said  I; 
because  he  has  not  found  a  suitable  form  of  government; 
for  in  one  that  suits  him,  he  will  both  make  greater 
progress  himself,  and  together  with  the  affairs  of  private 
persons,  will  preserve  those  of  the  public  also. 

Chap.  XI.  As  respects  philosophy,  then,  for  what 
reasons  it  has  been  traduced,  and  that  it  has  been  so  un- 
justly, we  have,  I  think,  sufficiently  stated,  unless  you 
have  anything  else  to  allege.  Nay,  said  he ;  I  can  say 
nothing  further  about  this  point:  but  which  of  the  pres- 
ent forms  of  government  do  you  conceive  to  be  suited 
to  philosophy  ?  None  whatever,  said  I ;  and  this  particu- 
larly is  what  I  complain  of,  that  no  existing  constitution 
of  a  state  is  worthy  of  the  philosophic  nature;  and  on 
this  account  therefore  it  is  turned  and  altered,  just  as  a 
foreign  seed  sown  in  an  improper  soil  becomes  worthless, 
and  has  a  tendency  to  fall  under  the  influence  of  the  soil 
in  which  it  is  placed;  so  this  race  likewise  has  not  at 
present  its  proper  power,  but  degenerates  to  some  pattern 
foreign  to  it;  but  in  case  that  it  does  meet  with  the 
best  form  of  government,  being  itself  also  best,  it  will 
then  be  evident  that  this  is  really  divine,  and  all  others 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


215 


only  human,  both  as  to  their  natures  and  pursuits;  but 
as  a  matter  of  course  you  are  evidently  about  to  ask  what 
is  this  form  of  government  ?  You  are  mistaken,  said  he, 
for  this  I  was  not  going-  to  ask;  but  whether  it  be  this, 
which  we  have  described  in  establishing  our  state,  or  some 
other.  As  regards  all  other  things,  said  I,  it  is  this  one ; 
and  this  very  thing  was  then  mentioned,  that  there  must 
always  be  in  our  state  something  having  the  same  regard 
for  the  government,  which  you  the  legislator  had  in  estab- 
lishing the  laws.  Aye, —  that  was  mentioned,  said  he. 
Yes,  but,  said  I,  it  was  not  made  sufficiently  clear, 
owing  to  the  fear  of  what  you  objected,  when  you  showed 
also  that  the  illustration  of  the  thing  would  be  both  tedi- 
ous and  difficult;  for  indeed  it  is  not  on  the  whole  quite 
easy  to  discuss  what  remains.  What  is  that  ?  In  what 
manner  a  state  is  to  undertake  the  study  of  philosophy, 
so  as  not  itself  to  be  destroyed ;  for  all  great  pursuits  are 
dangerous;  and,  as  the  saying  is,  those  noble  even  are 
truly  difficult.  But  still,  rejoined  he,  let  our  demonstra- 
tion be  completed  by  making  this  evident.  Want  of  in- 
clination, said  I,  will  not  hinder,  though  possibly  want 
of  power  may;  and  now  you  shall  at  once  be  assured  of 
my  readiness.  Consider  indeed,  how  readily  and  adven- 
turously I  am  about  to  assert,  that  a  state  ought  to  at- 
tempt this  study  in  a  way  opposite  to  what  it  does  at 
present.  How  ?  At  present,  said  I,  those  who  engage  in 
it  are  striplings,  who,  quite  from  childhood,  amidst  their 
domestic  affairs  and  lucrative  employments,  betake  them- 
selves to  most  abstruse  inquiries,  considering  themselves 
consummate  philosophers,  (and  I  call  what  respects  rea- 
soning, the  most  difficult  of  all) ;  and  should  they  in  after- 
time  be  invited  by  others  practicing  this  art,  they  are 
pleased  to  become  hearers,  and  think  it  a  great  conde- 
scension, reckoning  they  ought  to  do  it  as  a  by-work,  but 
toward  old  age,  with  the  exception  indeed  of  some  few, 
they  are  extinguished  even  more  than  the  Heraclitean* 
sun,  because  they  are  never  again  rekindled.    But  how 

*  Heraclitus  the  Ephesian  said  that  the  sun  descended  to^the  western 
sea,  and  at  its  setting  was  extinguished,  being  again  enkindled  when 
it  ascended  above  the  earth  in  the  east ;  and  that  this  took  place  per- 
petually. 


2l6 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


should  they  act  ?  said  he.  Quite  the  reverse  of  what  they 
do;  while  they  are  lads  and  youths  they  should  study 
youthful  learning  and  philosophy,*  and,  take  special 
care  of  the  body,  during  its  growth  and  strengthening 
by  inviting  its  services  to  the  aid  of  philosophy;  and 
then,  as  that  time  of  life  progresses,  during  which  the 
soul  is  attaining  its  perfection,  they  should  vigorously 
apply  to  her  exercises;  but  when  strength  decays,  and  is 
no  longer  suited  for  civil  and  military  employments,  they 
should  then  be  dismissed,  and  live  at  pleasure,  with  the 
exception  of  a  by-work,  [that  is,  studying  philosophy],  if 
indeed  they  propose  to  live  happy,  and,  when  they  die, 
possess  in  the  other  world,  a  destiny  suited  to  the  life 
which  they  have  led  in  this. 

Chap.  XII.  How  truly  do  I  think,  Socrates,  said  he, 
that  you  speak  with  ready  zeal:  I  think,  however,  that 
most  of  your  hearers  will  still  more  zealously  oppose  you, 
and  by  no  means  be  persuaded,  and  Thrasymachus  even 
first.  Do  not  divide  Thrasymachus  and  me,  said  I,  who 
are  now  become  friends,  though  not  enemies  heretofore; 
for  we  will  not  at  all  relax  our  efforts,  till  we  either 
persuade  both  him  and  the  rest,  or  make  some  advances 
toward  that  life,  on  attaining  which  they  will  again  meet 
with  such  discourses  as  these.  You  have  spoken,  said  he, 
only  for  a  short  time.  No  time  at  all,  said  I,  as  compared 
at  least  with  the  whole  of  time :  but  that  the  multitude 
are  not  persuaded  by  what  is  said,  is  no  wonder ;  for  they 
have' never  as  yet  seen  that  what  was  mentioned  actually 
came  to  pass,  but  rather  that  they  were  certain  mere 
words  cleverly  fitted  to  each  other,  and  not  as  now  coming 
out  spontaneously:  and  as  regards  the  man,  who  is,  as 
completely  as  possible,  squared  and  made  consistent  with 
virtue  both  in  word  and  deed,  holding  power  in  a  state 
of  such  different  character;  they  have  never  at  all  seen 
either  one  or  more  of  the  kind.    Do  you  think  they  have  ? 

*The  Scholiast  suggests,  that  Plato  here  refers  to  mathematical 
science;  but  Stalbaum  conceives  with  far  greater  probability,  that 
allusion  is  made  to  all  liberal  or  musical  arts  whatsoever,  which  are  to 
be  studied  as  disciplines  for  the  mind,  just  as  gymnastics  are  practiced 
to  promote  the  growth  and  strength  of  the  body. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


217 


By  no  means.  And  again,  as  respects  arguments,  my  ex- 
cellent friend,  they  have  not  sufficiently  listened  to  what 
are  fair  and  liberal,  such  as  persevere  in  the  search  for 
truth,  by  every  method,  for  the  mere  sake  of  knowledge, 
saluting  at  a  distance  such  intricate  and  contentious  ques- 
tions, as  tend  only  to  opinion  and  strife,  either  in  their 
law-courts  or  private  meetings.  Not  even  as  respects 
these,  he  replied.  On  these  accounts,  then,  said  I,  and 
foreseeing  these  things,  we,  although  with  fear,  still  as- 
serted (compelled  by  truth),  that  neither  state  nor  gov- 
ernment, nor  even  a  man  in  the  same  way,  could  ever 
become  perfect,  till  some  need  of  fortune  should  compel 
those  few  philosophers,  who  at  present  are  termed  not 
depraved  but  useless,  to  take  the  government  of  the  state, 
whether  they  will  or  not,  and  oblige  it  to  be  obedient  to 
them;  or  till  the  sons  of  those  who  are  now  in  high  offices 
and  magistracies,  or  they  themselves,  be  by  some  divine 
inspiration  filled  with  a  true  love  of  sincere  philosophy: 
and  I  am  sure  that  no  one  can  reasonably  suppose  either 
or  both  of  these  to  be  impossible ;  for  thus  might  we  justly 
be  derided,  as  saying  things  which  otherwise  are  only 
like  wishes :  is  it  not  so  ?  It  is.  If  then,  in  the  infinite 
series  of  past  ages,  absolute  necessity  has  compelled  men 
who  have  reached  the  summit  of  philosophy  to  take  the 
government  of  a  state,  or  even  if  such  is  now  the  case 
in  some  barbarous  region,  remote  from  our  observation, 
or  is  likely  to  be  the  case  hereafter,  we  are  ready,  in  that 
case,  to  advance  in  argument,  that  this  form  of  government 
just  described  has  existed  and  now  exists  [in  possibility], 
and  will  actually  arise,  when  this  our  muse  shall  obtain 
the  government  of  the  state :  for  this  is  neither  impossible 
to  happen,  nor  do  we  speak  of  impossibilities,  though  we 
ourselves  confess  that  they  are  difficult.  I  too,  said  he, 
am  of  the  same  opinion.  But  you  will  say,  replied  I, 
that  the  multitude  are  not  of  that  opinion  ?  Very  likely, 
said  he.  My  excellent  friend,  said  I,  do  not  thus  altogether 
condemn  the  multitude ;  and  do  not  upbraid  them  for  their 
opinion,  but  rather  encourage  them,  remove  the  reproach 
thrown  on  philosophy,  and  point  out  to  them  the  persons 
you  call  philosophers,  defining  distinctly, as  at  present,  both 
their  genius  and  pursuits,  that  they  may  not  think  that 


2l8 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


you  speak  of  such  as  they  themselves  call  philosophers. 
Indeed,  if  they  talk  of  the  same  men,  will  you  not  say  that 
they  have  conceived  a  different  opinion  of  the  men  from 
what  you  have,  and  give  very  different  replies  from  yours; 
and  think  you  that  one  man  can  be  angered  at  another, 
who  is  not  angry  himself ;  or  that  a  man  will  envy  the 
envious,  who  is  himself  free  from  envy,  and  of  a  gentle 
temper  ?  I  will  anticipate  you  by  saying,  that  I  think  some, 
few,  though  not  the  great  mass  of  mankind,  have  naturally 
so  bad  a  temper  as  you  have  described.  I  am  quite  of. 
that  opinion  also,  said  he.  Are  you  then  of  my  opinion 
in  this  also,  namely,  that,  as  regards  the  ill-feeling  of  the 
populace  toward  philosophy,  those  people  from  without 
[  i.  e. ,  the  sophists  ]  are  the  real  cause  of  it,  by  making  an 
indecent  and  turbulent  irruption  thereinto,  insulting  and 
showing  a  downright  hatred  of  philosophers,  ever  directing 
their  discourses  at  particular  men,  and  so  doing  what  least 
of  all  becomes  philosophy  ?    Certainly,  said  he. 

Chap.  XIII.  In  fact,  Adimantus,  the  man  who  really 
applies  his  intellect  to  reflect  on  true  being,  probably  has 
no  leisure  to  look  down  on  the  little  affairs  of  mankind, 
and  by  fighting  with  them,  become  filled  with  envy  and 
ill-nature ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  beholding  and  contem- 
plating objects  that  are  orderly,  always  self -consistent  and 
stable,*  such  as  neither  injure  nor  are  injured  by  each 
other,  but  are  in  all  respects  beautiful  and  consonant  with 
reason,  these  he  imitates  and  resembles  as  far  as  possible : 
what,  think  you  it  at  all  possible,  that  a  man  will  not  imi- 
tate what  he  admires  as  soon  as  he  is  conversant  there- 
with ?  Impossible,  he  replied.  The  philosopher,  then,  who 
is  occtipied  with  what  is  divine  and  orderly,  becomes  him- 
self divine  and  orderly,  as  far  as  lies  in  man's  power:  yet 
in  all  there  is  great  room  for  blame.  Most  assuredly.  If 
then,  said  I,  he  should  be  any  how  compelled  to  try  to 
introduce  among  men  what  he  beholds  there  [in  his  world 
of  contemplation],  with  a  view  of  forming  their  manners, 

*  The  reader  will  take  in  connection  with  this  what  had  been  stated  at 
the  close  of  the  first  chapter  of  this  book,  —  that  the  philosopher's  studies 
were  concerned  with  real  and  eternal  being,  and  not  allowed  to  wander 
to  the  changeable  and  destructible. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


219 


both  in  private  and  public,  and  not  merely  to  form  him- 
self alone,  would  he  prove,  think  you,  a  bad  artist,  in  the 
matter  of  temperance  and  justice  and  every  civil  virtue  ? 
Not  at  all,  said  he.  But,  supposing  that  the  multitude 
should  perceive  that  we  are  speaking  the  truth  about  him 
[/.  r.,  the  philosopher],  will  they  be  angry  at  philosphers 
and  discredit  our  assertion,  that  the  state  can  never  other- 
wise be  happy,  except  as  portrayed  by  painters  who  em- 
ploy a  divine  pattern  ?*  They  will  not  be  angry,  said  he, 
if  they  do  perceive  it:  but  what  method  of  painting  do 
you  mean  ?  When  they  have  got  for  their  groundwork, 
said  I,  the  state  and  manners  of  mankind,  they  would  first 
make  them  pure,  which  is  not  altogether  an  easy  matter; 
for  you  know,  that  in  this  they  differ  from  others,  in 
being  unwilling  to  meddle  either  with  a  private  man  or 
state,  or  to  prescribe  laws,  till  they  have  either  received 
them  as  pure,  or  themselves  have  made  them  so.  Rightly 
too,  said  he.  And  after  this,  think  you  not  they  will  draw 
a  sketch  of  their  form  of  government  ?  Of  course.  After- 
ward, I  think,  as  they  proceed  in  their  work,  they  will 
frequently  look  in  two  directions,  not  only  to  what  is  nat- 
urally just  and  beautiful,  and  temperate  and  the  like,  but 
also,  again,  to  that  which  they  can  establish  among  man- 
kind, blending  and  compounding  their  human  form  out 
of  different  human  characters  and  pursuits,  drawing  from 
what  Homer  calls  the  divine  likeness,  and  the  divine 
resemblance  subsisting  among  men.  Right,  said  he. 
They  will,  of  course,  I  think,  erase  one  thing,  and  put 
in  another,  till  they  have,  as  far  as  possible,  made  human 
morals  pleasing  to  the  gods.  At  that  rate,  said  he,  the 
picture  will  be  most  beautiful.  In  this  case,  said  I,  do 
we  at  all  succeed  in  persuading  these  men,  who,  you  said, 
were  coming  upon  us  in  battle-array,  that  a  person  who 
can  thus  depict  governments  is  the  man  we  then  recom- 
mended to  them,  and  on  whose  account  they  were  angry 
with  us,  for  committing  to  him  our  states:  and  will  they 
now  be  more  mild,  when  they  hear  our  mention  thereof  ? 

*  Philosophers  ideally  contemplating  the  image  of  a  perfect  state  are 
here  elegantly  compared  to  painters  about  to  make  an  original  design  of 
a  city,  who  of  course  require  that  their  tablets  be  clean,  ere  they  com- 
mence their  drawing. 


220 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Certainly,  said  he,  if  they  be  wise :  for  what  is  there  now, 
that  they  can  further  question  ?  will  they  assert  that 
philosophers  are  not  lovers  of  real  being  and  truth  ? 
That,  said  he,  were  absurd.  Or  that  their  disposition, 
as  just  described,  is  not  allied  to  what  is  best  ?  Nor  this 
either.  What  then ;  will  not  a  disposition  such  as  we 
have  described,  by  finding  suitable  employments,  become 
perfectly  good  and  philosophic,  if  any  other  be  so;  will 
men  say  that  those  more  attain  to  it,  whom  we  have 
selected  ?  Not  at  all.  Will  they  still  then  be  indignant 
at  us  for  saying,  that  until  the  philosophic  race  have  the 
government  of  the  state,  the  miseries  neither  of  state 
nor  citizens  can  have  an  end,  nor  can  this  government, 
which  we  ideally  describe,  be  ever  perfectly  realized  ? 
Perhaps  somewhat  less  indignant,  rejoined  he.  Is  it  your 
wish,  then,  said  I,  that  we  say  not  that  they  are  some- 
what less  [indignant],  but  that  they  have  become  alto- 
gether mild,  and  are  persuaded,  that  they  will  at  least 
consent,  if  no  more,  through  very  shame  ?  By  all  means, 
said  he. 

Chap.  XIV.  Let  them  then,  said  I,  be  persuaded  of 
this:  and  is  there  any  one  who  will  dispute  this,  that 
men  of  a  philosophic  disposition  do  not  usually  spring  from 
kings  and  sovereigns  ?  No  one,  said  he,  would  assert  that. 
And  though  they  be  born  of  such  a  character,  one  may 
say  they  are  necessarily  prone  to  be  corrupted ;  for  indeed, 
it  is  a  hard  matter  for  them  to  be  preserved  untainted, 
even  we  ourselves  agree ;  but  will  any  one  contend 
throughout  all  time,  that  not  one  of  the  whole  human 
race,  would  be  preserved  pure  and  untainted  ?  How  can 
there  be  ?  But  surely,  said  I,  any  individual  born  with 
adequate  abilities,  and  who  has  his  state  in  obedience  to 
him,  can  accomplish  everything  now  so  much  disbelieved. 
Yes,  for  he  is  adequate  to  his  task,  said  he.  And  when 
the  governor,  said  I,  establishes  the  laws  and  customs 
here  detailed,  it  is  not  at  all  impossible  for  him  to  make  the 
citizens  willingly  obey  him  ?  In  no  way  whatever.  But 
is  it  wonderful  or  impossible,  that  what  is  our  opinion 
should  be  the  opinion  of  others  also  ?  I,  at  least,  do  not 
think  so,  said  he.    And  that  these  things  are  best,  if 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


221 


they  be  possible,  we  have,  I  think,  sufficiently  explained 
in  the  former  part  of  our  discourse.  Yes,  quite  sufTi- 
ciently.  Now  then,  it  seems,  we  are  agreed  about  our 
legislation ;  that  the  laws  we  mention  are  the  best,  if  they 
could  be  realized,  and  that  if  it  be  hard  to  establish 
them,  yet  it  is  not  impossible.  Yes,  we  are  agreed 
said  he. 

Chap.  XV.  Since  this  then  has  been  with  difficulty 
brought  to  a  conclusion,  shall  we  not  next  consider  what 
remains;  in  what  manner,  and  in  consequence  of  what 
sciences  and  pursuits,  they  will  become  installed  as  the 
preservers  of  the  government,  and  at  what  periods  of  life 
they  will  all  apply  to  their  several  pursuits  ?  Aye,  we 
must  talk  of  this,  observed  he.  My  cunning  has  done 
me  no  service,  said  I,  in  having  left  untouched,  in  the 
former  part  of  our  discourse,  the  diihculty  attending  the 
possession  of  women,  and  the  procreation  of  children, 
and  the  establishment  of  governors,  knowing  how  in- 
vidious the  business  is,  and  full  of  difficulty,  even  though 
it  be  perfectly  true  and  correct:  for  we  are  now  under 
no  less  a  compulsion  of  entering  into  these  details. 
What  relates  to  women  and  children  has  already  been 
brought  to  a  close ;  and  as  to  what  concerns  the  gov- 
ernors, we  must  now  from  the  beginning  reconsider  that 
subject.  We  have  alleged,  if  you  remember,  that  they 
should  appear  to  be  lovers  of  the  state,  proved  to  be  so  both 
by  pleasures  and  pains,  and  not  seen  to  abandon  this 
principle,  either  through  toils  or  fears  or  any  other 
change;  and  that  he  who  cannot  do  this  should  be  re- 
jected; while  as  for  him  who  comes  forth  altogether  pure, 
as  gold  tried  in  the  fire,  we  should  appoint  him  ruler, 
and  endow  him  with  honors  and  rewards  both  during 
life  and  after  death.  Such  was  what  we  said,  when  our 
argument  was  wandering  and  assuming  a  veil,  through 
fear  of  disturbing  the  present  state  of  things.  You  speak 
quite  truly,  said  he;  for  I  remember  it.  Yes,  for  I  was 
loath,  to  say,  my  friend,  what  I  must  now  venture  to 
assert:  but  now  this  assertion  must  at  any  rate  be  ven- 
tured, that  the  most  perfect  guardians  must  be  estab- 
lished philosophers.    Yes,  that  has  been  stated,  replied 


222 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


he.  But  consider,  I  pray,  that  you  will  probably  have 
only  a  few  of  these ;  for  such  a  disposition,  as  we  de- 
clare that  they  must  necessarily  have,  is  but  rarely  used 
to  center  in  one  single  individual;  though  its  different 
parts  are  commonly  found  in  many  different  persons. 
How  say  you  ?  he  replied.  That  such  as  learn  with 
facility,  have  a  good  memory,  are  sagacious  and  acute, 
and  endued  with  all  qualifications  thereto  allied,  are  yet 
not  at  the  same  time  of  so  vigorous  and  lofty  an  intellect, 
as  to  live  orderly,  with  calmness  and  constancy,  but  are 
carried  hapchance  by  mere  buoyancy  of  spirits,  and  are 
deserted  by  everything  like  stability.  Your  remark  is 
true,  replied  he.  Well  then,  these  firm  habits  of  the 
mind,  which  are  not  easily  changeable,  and  which  one 
might  specially  employ  as  trusty,  and  which  in  time  of 
war  are  hard  to  be  excited  to  terror;  and  similarly  also 
as  regards  learning,  they  move  heavily,  and  learn  with 
difficulty,  as  if  benumbed,  and  oppressed  with  sleep  and 
yawning,  when  compelled  to  labor  at  any  work  of  this 
description.  It  is  so,  replied  he.  But  we  said,  that  he 
ought  to  have  a  good  and  fair  share  of  both  these,  or  else 
should  have  no  share  whatever  either  in  the  most  perfect 
kind  of  education,  or  in  magisterial  dignities  or  state 
honors.  Right,  said  he.  Do  not  you  think  then,  that 
this  will  but  rarely  happen  ?  Of  course  it  will.  They 
must  be  tried  then  both  in  what  we  before  alluded  to, 
- — labors,  fears,  and  pleasures;  and  likewise  in  what  we 
then  passed  over,  and  are  now  mentioning;  we  must 
exercise  them  in  various  kinds  of  learning,  with  due  re- 
gard for  the  power  of  their  talents  to  go  through  the 
highest  branches  of  study,  or  else  their  failure,  as  that 
of  persons  failing  in  all  other  things.  It  is  fit  now,  said 
he,  that  we  consider  this  question  in  this  manner:  but 
what  kind  of  studies  are  they,  which  you  call  the  highest  ? 

Chap.  XVI.  You  remember,  perhaps,  said  I,  that  when 
we  divided  the  soul  into  three  parts,  we  defined  the  nature 
respectively  of  justice,  temperance,  fortitude,  and  wis- 
dom ?  If  I  did  not  remember,  said  he,  I  should  have  no 
right  to  hear  what  remains.  [  Do  you  remember  likewise] 
what  was  said  before  that  ?    What  was  it  ?    We  some- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


223 


where  said,  that  it  was  possible  to  behold  these  in  their 
most  beautiful  forms,  but  that  the  journey  would  be 
tedious,  which  a  person  must  make,  who  would  see  them 
clearly;  yet  that  it  was  possible,  to  approach  them  through 
our  proofs  before  mentioned,  and  you  said  also,  that  these 
were  sufficient;  so,  what  was  then  asserted  fell  in  my 
opinion  far  short  of  the  truth;  though  if  agreeable  to 
you,  you  may  say  so.  I  at  least  thought,  replied  he, 
that  they  had  been  discussed  in  fair  measure;  and  the 
rest  seemed  to  think  so  too.  But  my  friend,  said  I,  in 
speaking  of  things  of  this  kind,  such  a  measure  as  omits 
any  part  whatever  of  the  truth  is  not  wholly  in  measure ; 
for  nothing  imperfect  is  the  measure  of  anything;  though 
people  sometimes  think  that  things  are  sufficiently  well 
when  thus  circumstanced,  and  there  is  no  need  for  further 
inquiry.  Very  many,  said  he,  thus  behave  through  indo- 
lence. But  the  guardian  of  the  state  and  the  laws,  said 
I,  should  least  of  all  be  thus  affected.  So  it  seems, 
replied  he.  Such  an  one,  then,  my  friend,  said  I,  must 
make  a  more  comprehensive  circuit,  and  labor  as  much 
in  learning  as  in  exercising  himself:  otherwise,  as  we 
were  just  saying,  he  will  never  arrive  at  the  summit  of 
the  greatest  and  most  suitable  learning.  But  are  not 
these  branches  the  highest;  or  is  there,  said  he,  any  one 
yet  higher  than  justice,  and  those  virtues  which  we  have 
discussed  ?  There  is  something  greater,  said  I ;  and  even 
of  these  we  mi:st  not,  as  just  now,  only  contemplate  the 
mere  rude  sketch;  but  we  must  not  omit  even  its  com- 
plete elaboration:  is  it  not  ridiculous  in  other  things  of 
small  moment  to  employ  our  whole  labor,  and  strive  to 
attain  the  utmost  accuracy  and  perfection,  and  yet  not 
deem  the  highest  and  most  important  affairs  worthy  of 
our  highest  attention,  with  a  view  to  making  them  as 
perfect  as  possible  ?  The  sentiment  said  he,  is  very  just : 
but  with  respect  to  the  question, —  what  is  this  most  im- 
portant branch  of  study,  and  about  what  you  say  it  is 
employed, —  think  you  that  any  one  will  let  you  go  with- 
out asking  its  nature  ?  Not  at  all,  said  I :  but  do  you 
ask;  although  you  have  assuredly  often  heard  it,  but  at 
present  you  do  not  bear  it  in  mind,  or  else  intend  to 
embarrass  me  by  raising  objections:  and  I  think  this  the 


224 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


more,  as  you  have  often  heard  at  least,  that  the  idea  of 
the  good  is  the  highest  branch  of  study;  about  which, 
when  justice  and  the  other  virtues  employ  themselves, 
they  then  become  useful  and  advantageous.  Now  then, 
you  know  pretty  well  that  I  mean  to  say  this,  and  besides, 
that  we  do  not  sufficiently  know  that  idea;  and  without 
this  knowledge,  though  we  were  to  understand  every- 
thing else  as  fully  as  possible,  yet  you  know  that  it 
could  be  of  no  service  whatever  to  us,  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  no  possession  whatever  would  be  of  aught  avail, 
without  the  possession  of  the  good:  and  think  you  that 
it  is  more  profitable  to  possess  all  things  without  the 
possession  of  the  good  than  to  know  all  things  without 
the  knowledge  of  the  good,  having  no  perception  at  all 
of  the  beautiful  and  good  ?    Not  I,  by  Zeus,  he  exclaimed. 

Chap.  XVII.  Of  this,  moreover,  you  may  be  quite 
certain,  that  to  the  multitude  pleasure  seems  to  be  the 
good  while  the  more  refined  think  it  to  be  virtue.  How 
otherwise  ?  And  you  know  also,  my  friend,  that  those 
who  hold  this  opinion,  are  unable  to  show  what  knowl- 
edge is,  but  are  compelled  at  last  to  call  it  the  knowledge 
of  the  good.  Aye,  and  most  absurdly  too,  said  he.  How 
indeed  can  it  be  otherwise,  replied  I,  if  when  upbraiding 
us  for  not  knowing  the  good,  they  yet  speak  as  to  per- 
sons knowing  it,*  and  say  that  knowledge  is  good  itself, 
as  if  we  understood  their  meaning  when  pronouncing  the 
word  "  the  good  ?  *  Most  true,  said  he.  But  what  ?  those 
who  define  pleasure  to  be  good,  are  they  less  in  error 
than  the  others;  or  are  not  these  too  compelled  to  con- 
fess that  pleasures  are  evil  ?  Quite  so.  It  happens  then, 
I  think,  that  they  acknowledge  the  same  things  to  be 
both  good  and  evil, —  do  they  not?  Undoubtedly.  Is  it 
not  clear,  then,  that  on  this  point  there  are  great  and 
manifold  varieties  of  opinion  !  Of  course  there  are.  But 
what;  is  it  not  clear  also,  that  with  reference  to  things 

*  The  meaning  is:  that  as  such  persons  are  forced  to  allow  that 
knowledge  of  itself  is  not  the  highest  good,  but  should  be  referred 
to  the  highest  good,  as  the  arbiter  thereof, —  those  persons  run  into 
an  absurd  error,  who  denying  that  we  have  any  knowledge  of  <<the 
good,»  yet  so  act  as  if  we  had  a  sufficient  knowledge  thereof, — fixing 
their  notion  on  some  abstract  theory  of  good. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


225 


just  and  beautiful,  the  multitude  choose  what  is  appar- 
ent, even  though  it  has  no  real  existence,  yet  acting  and 
possessing  and  appearing  to  possess  it;  though  the  acqui- 
sition of  only  apparent  goods,  never  yet  satisfied  any 
one:  for  people  on  the  olher  hand  seek  what  is  real,  and 
all  men  despise  what  is  only  apparent  ?  Just  so,  said  he. 
This  then  is  what  every  soul  pursues,  and  for  the  sake 
of  which  it  docs  everything,  conjecturing  it  to  be  some- 
thing, though  still  in  doubt,  and  imable  either  fully  to 
comprehend  its  nature,  or  employ  belief  alone  respecting 
it  as  of  other  things;  and  hence  is  it,  that  they  fail  of 
success  even  in  other  matters  however  useful.  Are  we 
to  say  then,  that  about  a  matter  of  this  nature,  and  of 
such  vast  consequence,  even  the  best  men  in  the  state, 
to  whom  we  commit  the  management  of  all  things,  will 
be  thus  in  the  dark  ?  By  no  means,  said  he.  I  am  of 
opinion  then,  said  I,  that  the  just  and  the  beautiful,  so 
long  as  they  are  tmknown  in  what  particular  way  they 
are  good,  cannot  be  of  any  great  importance  to  have  a 
guardian  who  is  ignorant  of  this;  and  I  suspect  that  no 
one  will  before  this  attain  a  sufficient  knowledge  thereof. 
Yes,  you  guess  rightly,  observed  he.  Will  not  our  gov- 
ernment, therefore,  have  been  completely  set  in  order, 
if  a  guardian  be  set  over  it  that  is  scientifically  ac- 
quainted with  these  things  ? 

Chap.  XVIII.  It  must  of  necessity,  said  he:  but  yet 
vv'ith  respect  to  yourself,  Socrates,  say  you  that  the  good 
is  science,  or  pleasure,  or  something  independent  of  these  ? 
Oh,  you  fine  fellow,  said  I,  you  long  ago  clearly  showed 
that  you  were  not  to  be  satisfied  with  other  men's  opinions 
about  these  matters.  Nor  does  it  seem  to  me  just,  Socra- 
tes, said  he,  that  a  man  should  keep  talking  of  other  men's 
opinions,  and  not  his  own,  after  having  spent  so  much  time 
in  inquiring  about  these  particulars.  But  what,  said  I ; 
do  you  think  it  just  then,  that  a  man  should  talk  about 
matters  of  which  he  is  ignorant,  just  as  if  he  knew  them  ? 
By  no  means  as  if  he  knew  them,  said  he ;  yet,  according 
to  his  thoughts,  whatever  he  thinks  he  should  willingly 
tell  us.  But  what,  said  I ;  have  you  not  observed  re- 
specting unscientific  opinions,  how  contemptible  they  all 
15 


226 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


are,  and  the  best  of  them  blind:  and  think  you,  that  these 
persons,  who  without  intellect  form  true  opinions,  are  at 
all  different  from  blind  men  walking  on  the  right  road  ? 
Not  at  all,  said  he.  Do  you  wish,  then,  that  we  should 
contemplate  things  base,  blind,  and  crooked,  when  it  is  in 
our  power  to  hear  from  others  what  is  clear  and  beautiful  ? 
By  Zeus,  Socrates,  said  Glaucon,  do  not  stop  here,  as  if  you 
had  come  to  a  close;  for  we  shall  be  satisfied,  if,  in  the 
same  way  as  you  have  spoken  of  justice,  temperance,  and 
the  other  virtues,  you  will  in  like  manner  discourse  of 
the  good.  And  I  too  shall  be  very  well  satisfied,  my 
friend,  said  I ;  but  [I  am  afraid]  that  I  shall  not  be  able, 
and  so,  by  my  readiness  may  incur  the  ridicule  of  un- 
mannerly persons.  But,  my  excellent  friends,  let  us  at 
present  dismiss  this  inquiry  about  the  nature  of  the  good, 
(for  it  seems  to  me  more,  as  far  as  I  now  think,  than 
we  can  attain,  in  our  present  attempt) :  but  I  am  willing 
to  tell  you,  if  you  please,  what  I  conceive  to  be  the  off- 
spring of  the  good,  and  its  nearest  representation;  and 
if  not,  I  shall  dismiss  it.  Well  then,  tell  us,  said  he;  foi* 
you  shall  afterwards  acquit  yourself  of  your  debt  by  tell- 
ing us  of  its  parent.  I  could  wish,  said  I,  both  that  1 
were  able  to  oblige  you  by  explaining  that,  and  not  as 
now  the  offspring  only  and  interest  of  my  debt.  This 
child  and  offspring  of  the  good  itself,  pray  receive;  but 
still  take  due  care  that  I  deceive  you  nowise  unwillingly 
by  paying  my  account  of  this  offspring  in  base  coin. 
We  will  take  care  of  that,  said  he,  as  far  as  we 
can:  only  do  you  tell  us.  I  will  then,  said  I,  when 
we  are  once  thoroughly  agreed,  and  I  have  re- 
minded you  of  what  was  before  mentioned,  and  has 
been  often  said  on  other  occasions.  What  is  that  ? 
said  he.  That  there  are  many  things  beautiful,  said  I, 
and  many  good  also ;  and  each  of  these  we  declare  to  be 
so,  and  so  define  them  in  our  argument.  Yes,  so  we  say. 
But  as  to  the  beautiful  itself  and  the  good  itself,  and 
similarly  as  to  all  those  things  which  we  then  considered 
as  of  various  natures,  we  are  now  again  establishing  them 
according  to  the  unity  of  the  general  idea,  to  which  we 
conceive  each  related;  and  these  indeed,  we  say,  are 
observed  by  the  eye  but  are  not  objects  of  intellectual 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


227 


perception ;  whereas  the  ideas  are  perceived  by  the  intel- 
lect, not  seen  by  the  eye.  Assuredly.  By  what  part  then 
of  ourselves  do  we  see  things  visible  ?  By  the  sight,  said 
he.  And  is  it  not,  said  I,  by  hearing,  that  we  perceive 
what  is  heard;  and  by  the  other  senses,  all  the  other 
objects  of  sense  ?  Of  course.  But  have  you  not  per- 
ceived, said  I,  as  regards  the  artificer  of  the  senses, 
with  what  perfect  skill  he  has  formed  the  power  of  see- 
ing, and  being  seen  ?  Not  quite,  he  replied.  But  con- 
sider it  thus :  is  there  a  third  kind  of  faculty  required  by 
the  hearing  and  voice,  in  order  that  the  one  may  hear 
and  the  other  be  heard,  in  the  absence  of  which  the  one 
will  not  hear,  and  the  other  not  be  heard  ?  There  is  not, 
said  he.  I  conceive,  said  I,  that  many  others  also  (not 
to  say,  none  at  all)  require  no  such  thing;  can  you  name 
any  one  that  does  ?  Not  I,  he  replied.  But  with  refer- 
ence to  the  sense  of  seeing  and  the  object  of  sight,  do 
you  not  perceive  that  they  require  something  ?  How  ? 
When  there  is  sight  in  the  eyes,  and  when  he  who  has 
it  attempts  to  use  it  and  when  there  is  color  in  the  ob- 
jects before  him,  unless  there  concur  some  third  kind  of 
medium  naturally  formed  for  the  purpose,  the  sight,  you 
are  aware,  will  see  nothing,  and  colors  will  be  invisible. 
What  is  this  of  which  you  are  now  speaking  ?  inquired  he. 
What  you  call  light,  said  I.  Your  remark  is  true,  replied 
he.  This  sense  of  seeing  then,  and  power  of  being  seen, 
are  no  unimportant  ideas,  and  are  connected  by  a  bond 
more  precious  than  all  other  bonds,  if  light  be  not  value- 
less.   But  if  is  far,  said  he,  from  being  valueless. 

Chap.  XIX.  Whom  then  of  the  gods  in  heaven  can  you 
assign  as  the  cause  of  this,  that  light  makes  our  sight  to 
see,  and  visible  objects  to  be  seen,  in  the  best  manner  ? 
The  same,  he  replied,  as  you  and  others  do;  for  it  is 
evident  that  you  mean  the  sun.  Does  not  sight  then 
derive  its  nature  through  its  relation  to  this  god  ?  How  ? 
The  sight  is  not  the  sun,  nor  is  that  the  sun  in  which 
sight  is  engendered,  which  we  call  the  eye.  It  is  not. 
But  yet,  methinks,  this  at  least  of  all  the  organs  of  sense  is 
most  sun-like.  Very  much  so.  And  the  power  which  it 
possesses,  does  it  not  possess,  as  dispensed  and  emanating 


228 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


hence  ?  Certainly.  Is  not  the  sun  then,  though  not  sight 
itself,  but  the  principle  thereof,  seen  by  sight  itself  ?  It 
is  so,  said  he.  This  then,  said  I,  be  assured,  is  what  I 
called  the  offspring  of  the  good,  which  the  good  gener- 
ates, analogous  to  itself;  and  what  this  is  in  the  sphere 
of  intelligence,  with  reference  to  intellect,  and  the  objects 
of  intellect,  that  the  sun  is  in  the  visible  [world]  with 
reference  to  sight  and  visible  things.  How  is  that  ?  said 
he :  pray  further  explain  it.  You  are  aware,  that  the  eyes, 
said  I,  when  directed  toward  objects,  whose  colors  are 
no  longer  visited  by  the  light  of  day,  but  by  the  glim- 
merings of  the  night,  grow  dim  and  appear  almost  blind, 
as  if  they  had  in  them  no  pure  vision.  Just  so,  said  he. 
But  when  they  turn  to  objects  which  the  sun  illuminates, 
then,  methinks,  they  see  clearly,  and  in  those  very  eyes 
there  now  appears  vision.  There  does.  Understand  the 
same,  then,  to  be  the  case  with  reference  to  the  soul. 
When  it  firmly  adheres  to  what  is  enlightened  by  truth 
and  real  being,  then  it  understands  and  knows  it,  and 
appears  to  possess  intellect ;  but  when  it  adheres  to  what  is 
blended  with  darkness,  and  is  subject  to  generation  and 
destruction,  it  then  has  to  do  with  opinion,  and  is  dull, 
wandering  from  one  opinion  to  another,  like  one  without 
intellect.  So  it  seems.  That,  therefore,  which  imparts 
truth  to  what  is  known,  and  dispenses  the  faculty  of 
knowledge  to  him  who  knows,  you  may  call  the  idea  of 
THE  GOOD  and  the  principle  of  science  and  truth,  as  being 
known  through  intellect.  And  as  both  these,  knowledge 
and  truth,  are  so  beautiful,  you  will  be  right  in  thinking 
that  the  good  is  something  different,  and  still  more 
beautiful  than  these.  Science  and  truth  here  are  as  light 
and  sight  there,  which  we  rightly  judged  to  be  sun-like, 
but  yet  did  not  think  them  to  be  the  sun:  so  here  it  is 
right  to  hold,  that  both  of  them  partake  of  the  form  of 
THE  GOOD,  but  yet  not  right  to  suppose  that  either  of  them 
is  THE  GOOD,  inasmuch  as  the  good  itself  is  worthy  of 
still  greater  honor.  You  speak,  said  he,  of  some  inesti- 
mable idea  of  *'the  beautiful,*  which  exhibits  science 
and  truth,  and  yet  is  itself  their  superior  in  beauty;  for 
you  have  nowhere  said,  that  it  was  pleasure.  Hope 
better  things,  said  I ;  but  thus  rather  consider  its  image 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


229 


still  furtliei'.  How  ?  You  will  say,  I  think,  that  the  sun 
imparts  to  things  which  are  seen,  not  only  their  visibility, 
but  likewise  their  generation,  growth,  and  nourishment, 
though  not  itself  generation  ?*  Of  cotirse.  We  may  say, 
therefore,  as  to  things  cognizable  by  the  intellect,  that 
they  become  cognizable  not  only  from  the  good,  by  which 
they  are  known,  but  likewise  that  their  being  and  essence 
arc  thence  derived,  while  the  good  itself  is  not  essence, 
but  beyond  essence,  and  superior  to  both  in  dignity  and 
power. 

Chap.  XX.  Here  Glaucon,  heartily  laughing,  said,  By 
Apollo,  here  is  a  marvelous  transcendency  !  You  your- 
self, replied  I,  are  the  cause  of  it,  by  compelling  me  to 
relate  what  I  think  about  it.  And  by  no  means  stop, 
said  he,  unless  there  be  some  cause;  from  again  discuss- 
ing the  analogy  about  the  sun,  if  you  have  omitted  any- 
thing. Aye,  I  have  omitted  many  things,  replied  I.  Ah, 
but,  replied  he,  pray  do  not  omit  the  smallest  particular. 
I  think,  said  I,  that  much  will  be  omitted:  yet,  as  far  as 
I  can  at  present,  I  will  not  willingly  omit  anything.  Do 
not,  said  he.  Understand,  then,  said  I,  that  we  allege 
these  to  be  two;  ruling  the  one  over  the  intelligible  genus 
and  place,  and  the  other  over  the  visible  world,  not  to 
say  the  heavens,  lest  I  should  seem  to  you  to  employ  a 
sophistical  expression :  you  understand,  then,  these  two  de- 
scriptions of  being,  the  visible  and  intelligible  ?  I  do. 
Supposing  now  you  take  a  line  cut  into  two  equal  sections, 
then  again  cut  each  part  according  to  the  same  ratio,  both 
that  of  the  visible  and  that  of  the  intelligible  species, 
you  will  then  have  them  placed  in  contrast  with  each 
other,  either  in  clearness  or  obscurity,  the  second  section 
in  the  visible  species  being  images.    Now  images  I  call, 

*  The  generation  of  things  illuminated  by  the  sun,  shows  that  it  ia 
perfectly  unbegotten ;  for,  according  to  the  Platonic  philosophy,  the 
sun  alone  of  all  the  bodies  in  the  universe  is  without  generation,  neither 
receiving  any  accession  nor  diminution ;  whereas  all  that  it  illuminates 
receives  light,  through  the  motion  of  the  sun  about  its  proper  centre, 
which  also  at  different  times  sends  different  rays  to  the  heavenly  bodies 
belonging  to  its  system.  So  far,  therefore,  as  the  sun  illuminates, 
it  is  unbegotten ;  and,  on  this  principle  only,  and  not  as  respects  its 
corporeal  shape,  is  it  assimulated  to  the  good. 


230 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


in  the  first  place,  shadows,  in  the  next,  appearances  in 
water,  and  such  as  subsist  in  opaque,  polished  and  bright 
bodies,  and  all  such-like  representations,  if  you  under- 
stand me.  Yes,  I  understand.  Consider  now  the  other 
section  of  the  visible  which  this  resembles,  the  animals 
around  us,  and  all  kinds  of  plants,  and  everything  of  an 
artificial  nature.  I  do  consider  it,  said  he.  Do  you  wish 
to  assert,  then,  that  this  section  is  divided  by  truth  and 
its  opposite;  and  just  as  the  objects  of  opinion  are  op- 
posed to  the  objects  of  true  knowledge,  so  also  that 
which  is  compared  [is  opposed]  to  that  with  which  it  is 
compared  ?  Aye,  indeed :  I  am  quite  willing.  Consider 
once  more  about  this  section  of  the  intelligible,  how  it  is 
to  be  effected.  How  ?  That  with  respect  to  one  part 
thereof,  the  soul  uses  the  former  sections  as  images,  and 
is  compelled  to  investigate  by  means  of  hypothesis,  not 
going  back  to  first  principles,  but  advancing  onward 
to  conclusions;  and  the  other  part,  again,  is  that  where 
the  soul  proceeds  from  hypothesis  to  an  unhypothetical 
principle,  and  makes  its  way  even  without  those  images 
by  means  of  the  ideas  themselves.  What  you  now  say, 
rejoined  he,  I  do  not  fully  understand.  Once  more,  said 
I,  for  you  will  more  easily  understand  me,  from  what  has 
been  previously  stated,  you  are  not  unaware,  methinks, 
that  persons  versed  in  geometry,  and  computations,  and 
such-like,  after  laying  down  hypotheses  of  the  odd  and 
even,  and  figures,  and  three  kinds  of  angles,  and  other 
similar  matters,  according  to  each  method,  proceed  on 
them  as  known,  after  establishing  them  as  mere  hypotheses, 
and  give  no  further  reason  about  them,  either  to  them- 
selves or  others,  as  being  things  obvious  to  all;  but,  be- 
ginning with  these,  then  directly  discuss  the  rest,  and  end 
by  meeting  at  the  point  where  the  inquiry  set  out  ?  I 
know  this,  said  he,  perfectly  well.  And  [  do  you  not  like- 
wise know]  that  they  use  the  visible  species,  and  reason 
about  them,  not  employing  their  intellect  about  these 
species,  but  about  those  of  which  they  are  the  resem- 
blances, arguing  about  the  square  itself,  and  the  diameter 
itself,  and  not  about  what  they  describe ;  and,  so  also  with 
reference  to  other  particulars,  those  very  things  which 
they  form  and  describe,  among  which  are  shadows  and 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


231 


images  in  water,  these  they  use  as  images,  trying  to 
behold  those  very  things,  which  a  man  can  only  perceive 
by  his  intellect  ?    You  say  true,  he  replied. 

Chap.  XXL  This,  then,  was  what  I  meant  by  the  idea 
of  the  intelligible ;  but  [I  said  also],  that  the  soul  was  y 
obliged  to  use  hypotheses  in  its  investigation,  not  going 
back  to  the  principle,  as  though  unable  to  ascend  higher 
than  hypotheses,  and  employed  comparisons  formed  from 
things  below,  to  lead  to  those  above,  as  to  clearly-seen 
objects  of  thought,  distinct  from  the  things  themselves. 
I  understand,  said  he,  that  you  are  speaking  of  what 
concerns  geometry  and  its  sister  arts.  By  that  other 
section  of  the  intelligible,  then,  you  must  understand  me 
to  mean  what  reason  itself  attains  by  its  dialectic  faculty, 
forming  hypotheses,  not  as  principles,  but  really  hypo- 
theses, just  like  steps  and  starting-points,  in  order  that 
by  proceeding  up  to  the  unhypothetical,  [that  is],  the 
principle  of  the  universe,  coming  in  contact  therewith, 
and  so  again  coming  into  union  with  what  is  united  to 
it  in  principle,  it  may  thus  reach  the  end  without  mak- 
ing use  of  anything  sensible,  but  only  of  ideas  them- 
selves, proceeding  through  some  to  others,  and  so  ending 
in  ideas.  I  understand,  said  he,  but  not  fully:  (for  I 
think  you  are  talking  of  some  difficult  work) :  but  I  un-  \ 
derstand  it  is  your  wish  to  prove  that  knowledge  obtained  ' 
by  dialectic  science  respecting  real  and  intelligible  being 
is  clearer  than  that  acquired  by  means  of  what  are  called  / 
arts,  which  take  hypotheses  for  their  first  principles,  and 
which  those  who  contemplate  must  view  with  the  under- 
standing and  not  the  perceptive  faculties;  whereas, 
through  their  inability  to  go  back  to  first  principles,  and 
as  they  reason  only  from  hypotheses,  you  think  they  do 
not  exercise  intellect  \yow'\  in  these  matters,  much  as 
they  might  become  intelligible  with  some  principle  for  a 
foundation:  and  as  for  understanding  [or  reasoning]  that 
which  we  acquire  through  geometry  and  its  kindred  arts, 
and  not  pure  reason,  this  is  something  lying  between 
opinion  and  pure  intellect.  You  have  fully  understood 
me,  said  I :  and  understand  me  now,  that  analogous  to 
these  four  branches  of  knowledge  are  four  affections  [or 


232 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


faculties]  of  the  soul,  pure  reasoning  answering  to  the 
highest,  understanding  [or  reasoning]  to  the  second, 
faith  to  the  third,  conjecture  to  the  last :  *  and  so  ar- 
range them,  as  to  assign  to  them  respectively  more  or 
less  of  clearness,  as  they  are  more  or  less  allied  to  truth. 
I  understand,  replied  he,  and  quite  agree;  and  so  let  us 
adopt  your  proposed  arrangement. 

*  Plato  conceived  that  there  was  an  ideal  and  a  visible  world, 
the  world  of  reason  and  the  world  of  sense,  and  two  essences  in 
each;  in  the  former,  pure  or  abstract  ideas  and  mixed  ideas, 
in  the  visible  world  (which  comprises  exclusively  the  objects  of 
sense),  material  substances;  and  secondly,  the  images,  shadows,  or 
representations  of  bodies.  Analogous  to  these  also  are  four  facul- 
ties of  the  human  mind,  two  only  of  which  have  any  relation  to 
the  ideal  world  or  form  any  part  of  true  science;  i.  v6rjaiQ,  the 
knowledge  of  pure  ideas  (reflection,  the  pure  reason  of  Kant) ;  2. 
didvoia,  (understanding),  the  knowledge  of  mixed  ideas;  3.  ■k-iotiq, 
FAITH,  the  knowledge  of  bodies  and  their  properties;  4.  eiKoaia, 
CONJECTURE,  the  knowledge  of  the  images  or  shadows  of  bodies. 
The  last  two  belong  to  unstable,  varying  opinion  (S6^a).  This 
explanation  is  here  given,  as  the  words  require  a  more  accurate 
definition  than  can  be  furnished  by  the  text.  See  article  Plato, 
in  the  P.  Cycl. 


BOOK  Vll. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  SEVENTH  book,  which  opens  with  a  beautiful  description  of 
the  nature  of  man  confined  in  a  dark  cave,  Plato  proceeds  to  show  the 
means  and  plan  for  learning  true  philosophy,  and  how  we  may- 
attain  to  the  serious  and  sober  practice  of  social  life  and  politics. 
That  moral  discipline,  argues  he,  which  I  require  in  my  guardian,  is 
not  mere  vacant  contemplation,  but  a  profound  and  practical  knowl- 
edge of  all  matters  nearly  or  more  remotely  concerning  the  duties  of 
life  and  the  social  relations  of  mankind,  that  is,  the  state  in  its 
most  broad  and  general  sense,  in  fact,  that  he  should  be  a  philosophic 
ruler  acquainted  with  divine  and  human  things,  in  other  words, 
with  true  and  primary  philosophy.  This  he  terms  dialectic,  the 
subordinates  of  which  are  physics,  the  science  which  considers  the 
origin  and  formation  of  matter,  and  mathematics,  which  is  halfway 
between  the  two  others,  engaged  indeed  in  contemplating  abstract 
and  purely  argumentative,  but  not  on  that  higher  eternal  truth ;  em- 
phatically, TO  01',  that  primarily  exists  in  the  mind  of  God ;  of  these 
matters  he  treats,  particularly  the  first,  at  very  considerable  length ; 
which,  as  Ritter  says,  is  a  regulating  superintendent,  which,  from  the 
knowledge  of  the  eternally  true,  may  indicate  to  each  special  science 
its  proper  object. 

Chapter  I.  After  this,  then,  said  I,  compare  our  nature 
as  respects  education,  or  the  want  thereof,  to  a  condition 
such  as  follows:  Behold  men,  as  it  were,  in  an  under- 
ground cave-like  dwelling',  having  its  entrance  open 
toward  the  light  and  extending  through  the  whole  cave, 
and  within  it  persons,  who  from  childhood  upwards  have 
had  chains  on  their  legs  and  their  necks,  so  as,  while 
ahiding  there,  to  have  the  power  of  looking  forward  only, 
but  not  to  turn  round  their  heads  by  reason  of  their 
chains,  their  light  coming  from  a  fire  that  burns  above 
and  afar  off,  and  behind  them ;  and  between  the  fire  and 
those  in  chains  is  a  road  above,  along  which  one  may  see 
a  little  wall  built  along,  just  as  the  stages  of  conjurers 
are  built  before  the  people  in  whose  presence  they  show 

(233) 


234 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


their  tricks.  I  see,  said  he.  Behold  then  by  the  side  of 
this  little  wall  men  carrying  all  sorts  of  machines  rising 
above  the  wall,  and  statues  of  men  and  other  animals 
wrotight  in  stone,  wood,  and  other  materials,  some  of 
the  bearers  probably  speaking,  others  proceeding  in 
silence.*  You  are  proposing,  said  he,  a  most  absurd  com- 
parison and  absurd  captives  also.  Such  as  resemble  our- 
selves, said  I;  for  think  you  that  such  as  these  would 
have  seen  anything  else  of  themselves  or  one  another  ex- 
cept the  shadows  that  fall  from  the  fire  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  cave  ?  How  can  they,  said  he,  if  indeed  they 
be  through  life  compelled  to  keep  their  heads  unmoved  ? 
But  what  respecting  the  things  carried  by  them;  is  not 
this  the  same?  Of  course.  If  then  they  had  been  able 
to  talk  with  each  other,  do  you  not  suppose  they  would 
think  it  right  to  give  names  to  what  they  saw  before 
them  ?  Of  course  they  would.  But  if  the  prison  had  an 
echo  on  its  opposite  side,  when  any  person  present  were 
to  speak,  think  you  they  would  imagine  anything  else 
addressed  to  them,  except  the  shadow  before  them  ?  No, 
by  Zeus,  not  I,  said  he.  At  all  events  then,  said  I,  such 
persons  would  deem  truth  to  be  nothing  else  but  the 
shadows  of  exhibitions.  Of  course  they  would.  Let  us 
inquire  then,  said  I,  as  to  their  liberation  from  captivity, 
and  their  cure  for  insanity,  such  as  it  may  be,  and  whether 
such  will  naturally  fall  to  their  lot;  were  a  person  let 
loose  and  obliged  immediately  to  rise  up,  and  turn  round 
his  neck  and  walk,  and  look  upwards  to  the  light,  and 
doing  all  this  still  feel  pained,  and  be  disabled  by  the 
dazzling  from  seeing  those  things  of  which  he  formerly 
saw  the  shadows;  what  would  he  say,  think  you,  if  any 
one  were  to  tell  him  that  he  formerly  saw  mere  empty 
visions,  but  now  saw  more  correctly,  as  being  nearer  to  the 
real  thing,  and  turned  toward  what  was  more  real,  and 
then,  specially  pointing  out  to  him  every  individual  pass- 
ing thing,  should  question  him,  and  oblige  him  to  answer 
respecting  its  nature ;  think  you  not  he  would  be  embar- 
rassed, and  consider  that  what  he  before  saw  was  truer 
than  what  was  just  exhibited  ?    Quite  so,  said  he. 

*  Allusion  is  here  made  to  puppets  which  are  made  to  perform 
on  a  moveable  stage  by  means  of  strings  pulled  from  behind. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


235 


Chap.  II.  Therefore,  even  if  a  person  should  compel 
him  to  look  to  the  light  itself,  would  he  not  have  pain  in 
his  eyes  and  shun  it,  and  then,  turning  to  what  he  really 
could  behold,  reckon  these  as  really  more  clear  than  what 
had  been  previously  pointed  out  ?  Just  so,  replied  he. 
But  if,  said  I,  a  person  should  forcibly  drag  him  thence 
through  a  rugged  and  steep  ascent  without  stopping,  till 
he  dragged  him  to  the  light  of  the  sun,  would  he  not  while 
thus  drawn  be  in  pain  and  indignation,  and  when  he 
came  to  the  light,  having  his  eyes  dazzled  with  the  splen- 
dor, be  unable  to  behold  even  any  one  thing  of  what  he 
had  just  alleged  as  true  ?  No,  he  could  not,  at  the  mo- 
ment, at  least,  said  he.  He  would  require,  at  least  then, 
to  get  some  degree  of  practice,  if  he  would  see  things 
above  him:  and  first,  indeed,  he  would  most  easily  per- 
ceive the  shadows,  and  then  the  images  of  men  and  other 
animals  in  the  water,  and  after  that  the  things  themselves ; 
and  after  this  he  would  more  easily  behold  the  things  in 
heaven,  and  heaven  itself,  by  night,  looking  to  the  light 
of  the  stars  and  the  moon,  than  after  daylight  to  the 
sun  and  the  light  of  the  sun.  How  else  ?  Last  of  all, 
then,  methinks,  he  might  be  able  to  perceive  and  con- 
template the  nature  of  the  sun,  not  as  respects  its  images 
in  water  or  any  other  place,  but  itself  by  itself  in  its 
own  proper  station  ?  Necessarily  so,  said  he.  And  after 
this,  he  might  reason  with  himself  concerning  the  sun, 
that  it  is  the  body  which  gives  us  the  seasons  and  years 
and  administers  everything  in  its  stated  place,  being  the 
cause  also  in  a  certain  manner  of  all  natural  events.  It 
is  evident,  said  he,  after  what  has  been  formerly  stated, 
that  one  must  arrive  at  this  conclusion.  What  then, 
when  a  man  remembers  his  first  habitation  and  the  wds- 
dom  therein  residing,  and  his  fellow  captives  also,  think 
you  not,  that  he  would  congratulate  himself  on  the  change 
and  pity  the  rest  ?  Quite  so.  And  whatever  honors  and 
praises  and  rewards  were  assigned  by  mutual  consent  to 
him  that  had  the  most  acute  perception  of  the  present, 
and  the  best  recollection  both  of  long  past  and  recent 
events,  and  from  such  observations  was  best  able  to  con- 
jecture the  future,  think  you  that  he  would  desire  such 
honors,  or  envy  those   honored  by  these,  or  possessing 


236 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


influence,  or  would  not  he  rather  experience  what  Homer 
says,  and  ardently  desire 

As  laborer,  for  some  ignoble  man 
To  work  for  hire, 

and  rather  endure  anything  than  entertain  such  opinions 
and  live  in  such  a  manner  ?  I  think,  said  he,  that  he 
would  choose  to  suffer  anything  rather  than  live  in  that 
way.  And  consider  this,  said  I,  whether,  in  the  case  of 
such  an  one  going  down  and  again  sitting  in  the  same 
place,  his  eyes  would  not  be  blinded  in  consequence  of 
coming  so  suddenly  from  the  sun  ?  Quite  so,  replied  he. 
As  for  those  shadows  again,  if  he  were  compelled  to  split 
straws  and  dispute  about  them  with  those  persons  who 
had  been  in  constant  captivity,  while  yet  he  was  in  dark- 
ness before  the  establishment  of  his  sight,  (and  this  time 
of  getting  habituated  would  not  be  short),  would  he  not 
excite  ridicule ;  and  would  it  not  be  said  of  him,  that  after 
having  once  ascended  he  had  come  back  with  his  eyesight 
destroyed,  and  should  not  even  try  to  ascend  again ;  and 
as  for  any  one  that  attempted  to  liberate  him  and  lead  him 
up,  they  ought  to  put  him  to  death,  if  they  could  get  him 
into  their  hands?    Especially  so,  said  he. 

Chap.  III.  As  respects  this  image  then,  we  must  apply 
the  whole  of  it  to  our  preceding  discourse;  comparing 
the  region  that  is  seen  by  the  eyes  to  the  prison-habita- 
tion, and  the  light  of  the  fire  therein  to  the  power  of 
the  sun;  and  if  you  were  to  consider  the  ascent  above, 
and  the  contemplation  of  things  above  as  the  soul's 
ascent  into  the  region  of  intellect,  you  would  not  disap- 
point my  expectations,  since  this  it  is  which  you  desire 
to  hear;  but  God  knows  whether  it  be  true.  As  respects 
appearances  then,  it  thus  seems,  that  in  the  subjects  of 
human  knowledge  the  idea  of  the  good  is  the  last  object 
of  vision,  and  hard  to  be  seen;  and  when  beheld  it  must 
be  inferred  from  reason  to  be  the  cause  of  what  is  right 
and  beautiful  in  all  things,  generating  in  what  is  visible, 
both  light  and  its  parent  also,  [z'zz.  the  sun],  while  in 
that  which  is  intelligible,  it  is  itself  the  sovereign  pro- 
ducing truth  and  intelligence;  and  it  must  be  seen  too 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


by  him  that  would  act  with  judgment,  either  privately 
or  in  public.  I  too,  said  he,  am  quite  of  your  opinion, 
as  far  indeed  as  I  can  be.  Come  then,  said  I,  agree  on 
this  point  also ;  and  be  not  surprised  that  those  who  come 
here  are  unwilling  to  act  in  human  affairs,  but  have 
their  souls  ever  urged  to  dwell  on  things  above ;  for  it 
is  surely  reasonable  it  should  be  so,  since  these  things 
take  place  according  to  the  above  mentioned  image. 
Aye,  quite  reasonable,  replied  he.  But  what,  said  I; 
think  you  it  at  all  surprismg,  that  a  man  coming  from 
divine  contemplations  to  mere  human  woes,  should  appear 
awkward  and  extremely  ridiculous  while  he  is  yet  daz- 
zled,* and  when  ere  being  used  to  the  present  darkness, 
he  is  obliged  to  contend  in  courts  of  law  or  elsewhere 
about  the  shadows  of  justice,  or  the  statues  of  which 
they  are  the  shadows,  and  then  to  dispute  how  these 
matters  are  apprehended  by  those  who  have  never  con- 
templated justice  itself  ?  No  wonder  this,  replied  he. 
Nay,  said  I,  if  a  man  has  intelligence,  he  will  be  con- 
scious, that  there  are  two  disturbances  of  vision  arising  j 
from  two  causes,  viz.^  when  we  turn  from  light  into  ; 
darkness  and  from  darkness  into  light;  and  when  a  \ 
man  thinks  that  the  same  takes  place  with  reference  to 
the  soul  likewise,  when  it  beholds  him  disturbed  and 
unable  to  realize  its  perceptions,  he  will  not  laugh  im- 
moderately, but  rather  consider  whether  the  soul  has 
come  out  of  a  more  brilliant  existence  and  is  now  dark- 
ened by  ignorance,  or  else  emerging  out  of  gross  igno- 
rance into  a  more  luminous  existence,  be  overpowered  by 
dazzling  splendor;  and  thus  he  will  congratulate  the 
former  on  its  life  and  destiny,  while  he  pities  the  life 
and  destiny  of  the  other;  and  even  if  he  wished  to  laugh 
at  it,  his  laughter  will  be  less  ridiculous  than  if  it  were 
directed  to  the  soul  which  comes  from  light  into  dark- 
ness.   Your  remark  is  perfectly  reasonable,  he  replied. 

Chap.  IV.  It  is  fit  then,  said  I,  if  these  things  be 
true,  that  we  form  such   an  opinion  as  this  respecting 

*  This  refers  to  the  reproach  made  to  philosophers  on  the  unpractical 
nature  of  their  pursuits,  and  elsewhere  alluded  to  in  the  preceding  book, 
ch.  3,  and  likewise  in  the  Gorgias,  p.  484  c. 


238 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


them,  that  education  is  not  of  that  character  which  some 
persons  announce  it  to  be,  when  they  somehow  assert 
that,  there  is  no  science  in  the  soul,  but  that  they  can 
implant  it  just  as  if  they  implanted  sight  in  the  eyes  of 
the  blind.  Aye,  they  say  so,  he  replied.  Our  present 
argument  however,  said  I,  shows  this  power  to  reside  in 
the  soul  of  every  person,  and  to  be  the  organ  by  which 
every  one  learns.  Just  as  the  eye  cannot  turn  other- 
wise than  with  the  whole  body  from  darkness  to  the 
light,  so  also  one  must  turn  with  the  whole  soul  from 
sensible  objects  until  it  has  become  able  to  endure  the 
contemplation  of  what  is  real,  and  what  is  most  appar- 
ent of  the  real,  and  this  we  term  the  good  :  do  we  not  ? 
Yes.  It  will  be  the  art  then  of  this  very  person,  said  I, 
in  turning  about,  to  contrive  this ;  namely,  how  he  may 
turn  with  the  greatest  ease  and  advantage,  not  for  the 
sake  of  implanting  sight  in  him,  but  viewing  him  as 
already  possessing  it,  though  not  rightly  turned,  and 
not  looking  in  the  right  direction  ?  It  seems  so,  said  he. 
The  other  virtues  of  the  soul,  as  they  are  called,  seem 
to  me  somewhat  like  those  of  the  body;  for  in  fact  those 
not  before  contained  therein  are  afterward  engendered 
by  custom  and  practice:  but  the  faculty  of  intellect  pos- 
sesses, it  seems,  a  nature  somewhat  more  god-like  than 
all  the  rest;  never  losing  its  power,  but  by  exertion  be- 
coming useful  and  profitable,  by  the  opposite,  useless  and 
hurtful.  Have  you  never  yet  observed  of  those  that  are 
termed  wicked  yet  clever,  how  sharply  the  little  soul 
looks,  acutely  distinguishing  all  to  which  it  is  turned, 
having  indeed  no  contemptible  power  of  vision,  but  com- 
pelled to  be  so  far  the  servant  of  wickedness,  that  in 
proportion  as  its  vision  is  more  acute,  the  more  crime  it 
perpetrates  ?  Quite  so,  of  course,  observed  he.  As  regards 
this  part  of  such  a  disposition,  if  from  childhood  upward 
it  should  be  stripped  and  cut  off  from  what  belongs  to 
human  production,  as  from  leaden  weights,  which  have  a 
relation  to  feastings,  and  pleasures,  and  lusts,  that  turn 
the  sight  of  the  soul  to  things  downward;  if  the  soul 
can  free  itself  and  turn  toward  truth,  the  very  same 
principle  in  the  same  individuals  would  as  acutely  see 
those  things  as  the  objects  to  which  it  is  now  turned. 


THE  RIOP'UBLIC  OF  PLATO 


239 


Certainly,  he  replied.  Whafthcn,  is  not  this  probable,  said 
I,  and  a  necessary  consequence  of  what  has  just  been 
stated,  that  those  who  are  untaught  and  inexperienced 
in  truth  can  never  exercise  a  sufficient  superintendence 
over  the  state,  nor  yet  those  who  are  allowed  to  spend 
the  whole  of  their  time  in  philosophical  pursuits,  the 
former,  because  they  have  no  single  object  in  life,  toward 
which  they  should  direct  all  their  actions,  both  private 
and  public,  and  the  latter,  because,  as  far  as  their  will 
is  concerned,  they  will  not  engage  in  public  life,  from 
the  idea  that  even  while  yet  living  they  have  been  trans- 
ported to  the  islands  of  the  blessed  ?  True,  said  he.  It 
is  our  business  then,  said  I,  to  compel  those  of  the  in- 
habitants, who  possess  the  greatest  talent,  to  devote 
themselves  to  that  learning  which  we  formerly  considered 
most  important,  both  to  contemplate  the  good  and  go  in 
search  of  it;  and  when  they  have  gained  it,  and  taken  a 
sufficient  view  thereof,  yet  they  are  not  to  be  allowed 
what  is  now  allowed  them.  What  is  that  ?  To  abide 
there,  said  I,  and  show  an  -unwillingness  to  descend  again 
to  those  captives  of  whom  we  were  speaking;  or  share 
with  them  both  their  labors  and  honors,  whether  trifling 
or  more  important.  In  that  case,  said  he,  are  we  to  do 
them  injustice,  and  make  them  live  a  worse  life,  when 
they  could  have  lived  a  better  ? 

Chap.  V.  You  have  forgotten  again,  said  I,  that  this 
is  not  the  lawgiver's  concern,  how  any  one  class  in  a 
state  may  be  especially  happy,  but  to  contrive  rather  that 
happiness  shall  be  generated  throughout  the  state,  uniting 
the  citizens  both  by  persuasion  and  compulsion,  making 
them  share  each  other's  services,  such  as  they  can  confer 
on  the  community  at  large ;  and  when  he  introduces  such 
men  as  these  into  the  state,  he  does  so,  not  that  he  may 
dismiss  them  and  let  them  turn  whichever  way  each  likes, 
but  that  he  may  employ  them  as  a  bond  of  the  state. 
True  indeed,  said  he,  for  I  had  forgotten  that.  Anxiously 
consider  then,  Glaucon,  that  we  must  do  no  injustice  to 
the  philosophers  born  among  us,  but  tell  them  what  is 
just,  when  we  compel  them  to  take  charge  of  and  guard 
the  remainder:  for  we  will  assert,  that  those  who  in  all 


240 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


other  states  become  such  [philosophers]  do  not  probabl)- 
take  a  share  in  the  labors  going  on  therein,  as  they  spring- 
up  of  their  own  accord  without  the  consent  of  the  gov- 
ernment in  each ;  and  it  is  just  that  what  is  voluntary, 
inasmuch  as  it  owes  it  nurture  to  none,  should  willingly 
pay  no  one  the  price  of  its  nurture ;  but  as  for  you,  we 
brought  into  being  both  yourselves  and  the  rest  of  the 
state,  as  leaders  and  kings  in  beehives,  brought  up  better 
and  more  perfectly  than  the  others,  and  better  able  to 
take  a  share  in  both  [public  life  and  philosophical  pur- 
suits]. Each  must  then  in  turn  descend  to  the  dwelling 
of  the  rest,  and  accustom  himself  to  behold  obscure  ob- 
jects; for,  when  once  used  to  them,  you  will  perceive  the 
individual  images  of  each,  what  they  are  and  whence 
sprung,  ten  thousand  times  better  from  having  already 
seen  the  truth  concerning  what  is  beautiful,  and  just,  and 
good:  and  thus  the  state  will  be  settled  as  a  real  vision, 
both  by  us  and  yourselves,  and  not  as  a  dream,  like  most 
of  those  inhabited  by  persons  fighting  about  shadows,  and 
quarreling  about  government,  as  if  it  were  some  great 
good.  The  truth,  however,  is  as  follows:  in  whatever 
state  those  about  to  rule  are  least  anxious  to  take  the 
government,  this  must  necessarily  be  the  best  and  most 
peacefully  governed,  while  one  that  has  governors  of  an 
opposite  character,  must  of  course  be  the  opposite.  Cer- 
tainly, said  he.  Think  yo;u  then,  that  those  under  our 
charge,  when  they  hear  these  things,  will  disobey  us, 
and  be  unwilling  to  take  their  individual  share  in  the  labors 
of  the  state,  and  spend  the  greater  part  of  their  time  with 
one  another  in  a  state  of  leisure  ?  Impossible,  said  he ; 
for  we  will  prescribe  what  is  just  to  just  men,  and  each 
of  them  will  enter  on  his  office  from  this  consideration 
above  all  others,  that  he  should  act  in  a  manner  directly 
contrary  from  those  who  now  govern  individual  states. 
Yes,  for  so  it  is,  my  friend;  if  you  find  the  life  of  those 
appointed  to  official  stations  superior  to  the  dignity  of 
their  office,  then  your  state  may  possibly  be  well  settled; 
as  in  that  alone  will  the  really  wealthy  govern,  not  those 
rich  in  gold,  but  as  happy  men  should  be  rich,  in  a  life 
of  virtue  and  good  sense;  whereas,  should  they  be  poor, 
and  destitute  of  property  of  their  own,  and  then  come 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


241 


into  public  life,  thinking-  that  they  ought  to  plunder  the 
public  of  its  property,  it  is  not  possible  [that  such  a  state 
can  be  rightly  settled]:  for  as  the  contest  is  about  the 
possession  of  the  ruling  power,  such  a  war  being  domestic 
and  intestine,  is  destructive  to  themselves  as  well  as  the 
rest  of  the  state.  Most  true,  he  replied.  Do  you  con- 
ceive then  that  any  other  kind  of  life  despises  political 
offices  except  that  of  true  philosophy  ?  No,  by  Zeiis,  said 
he.  But  still  it  is  fitting,  at  least,  that  those  should  enter 
upon  it  who  are  not  fond  of  governing-,  otherwise  the  rivals 
will  fight  about  it.  Of  course,  it  cannot  be  otherwise. 
Whom  else,  then,  wotild  you  compel  to  enter  on  the 
guardianship  of  a  state,  except  such  as  are  most  in- 
telligent in  what  concerns  the  best  establishment  of  a 
state,  and  possess  other  honors,  and  a  mode  of  life 
superior  to  that  of  a  mere  politician  ?  None  other,  he 
replied. 

Chap.  VI.  Do  you  wish,  then,  that  we  should  now 
consider  this, —  in  what  manner  such  persons  will  be  pro- 
duced and  how  any  one  can  draw  them  upward  into 
light,  just  as  some  are  said  to  have  ascended  from 
Hades  to  the  gods  ?  Of  course  that  is  my  wish,  he 
replied.  This  then,  as  it  seems,  is  not  a  mere  turning 
of  a  die,*  but  a  movement  of  the  soul,  which  ascends 
from  some  half-night  kind  of  day  to  the  true  light  of 
existence,  which  we  will  term  true  philosophy.  Cer- 
tainly. Ought  we  not,  then,  to  inquire  what  branch  of 
learning  possesses  this  influence  ?  Of  course.  What 
then,  Glaucon,  may  that  training  of  the  soul  be,  which 
draws  it  from  what  is  generated  and  unstable  toward 
that  which  has  a  positive  existence  ?  And  talking  of 
this,  I  am  reminded:  did  we  not  say  that  it  is  necessary 
for  these  persons  even  while  young  to  engage  in  war- 
like exercises  ?  We  did  say  so.  We  should  add  this, 
then,  to  the  training  which  we  are  now  seeking.  What 
is  that  ?  That  of  not  being  useless  to  military  men.  Aye, 
we  must  indeed,  said  he,  if  it  be  possible.  Moreover, 
in  our  former  discourse,  we  somewhere  said  we  would 
have  them  taught  gymnastics  and  music.    We  did  so, 

■*  This  alludes  to  a  game  of  chance.  , 
i6 


242 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


said  he.  The  art  of  gymnastics  has  to  do,  I  think,  with 
what  is  unstable  and  perishable ;  for  it  presides  over 
corporeal  growth  and  decrease.  It  appears  so.  This 
then  cannot  be  the  branch  of  study,  of  which  we  are  in 
pursuit.  It  cannot.  Is  it  music  then,  such  as  we  have 
previously  described  ?  That,  said  he,  if  you  remember, 
corresponded  to  gymnastics,  as  it  trains  the  habits  of 
the  guardians,  giving  them  a  sort  of  concord  founded  on 
harmony, — not  science, —  and  good  rhythm  on  the  princi- 
ples of  rhythm,  and  other  things  in  discourses  which  are 
akin  to  these  both  in  such  as  are  fabulous  and  such  as 
more  resemble  truth;  but  as  to  its  being  a  branch  of 
science  that  refers  to  a  good  such  as  you  are  now  inves- 
tigating, music  had  no  such  character.  Most  correctly, 
said  I,  do  you  remind  me;  for  it  is  in  reality  no  such 
thing:  but,  excellent  Glaucon,  what  branch  of  science  is 
it  that  possesses  this  character  ?  for  all  the  arts  some- 
how seem  to  be  mechanical  and  illiberal.  Of  course ; 
and  moreover  what  other  branch  of  science  is  there, 
that  is  distinct  from  music,  gymnastics,  and  the  arts  f 
Come,  said  I,  if  we  cannot  conceive  any  except  these, 
let  us  take  one  of  those  which  extends  over  all.  Of 
what  kind  is  that  ?  Stich  as  this  common  idea  which  all 
arts,  and  intellects,  and  sciences  employ,  and  which  every 
person  must  learn  at  the  outset.  What  is  that  ?  said  he. 
This  trifling  matter,  said  I;  how  to  distinguish  one,  and 
two,  and  three,  which  I  call  in  general  terms  arithmetic 
and  compiitation :  is  it  not  thus  as  regards  these,  that 
every  art  and  science  must  necessarily  have  a  share  in 
these  ?  Surely,  he  replied.  Must  not,  then,  the  art  of 
war  ?  said  I.  Necessarily,  he  replied.  What  a  ridiculous 
general,  then,  said  I',  does  Palamedes  in  his  tragedies 
constantly  represent  Agamemnon  to  be.*  And  have  you 
not  observed  how  he  says,  that  after  inventing  numera- 
tion he  adjusted  the  ranks  at  Ilium,  and  numbered  the 
ships  and  the  rest  of  the  forces,  as  if  they  had  never  been 
numbered  before,  even  when  Agamemnon,  as  it  seems, 
did  not  know  how  many  feet  he  had,  since  he  did  not 

*  This  passage  refers,  no  doubt,  to  some  one  or  more  lost  tragedies 
in  which  Palamedes  is  made  to  accuse  Agamemnon  of  an  utter  igno- 
rance of  arithmetic. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


243 


know  how  to  count;  what  kind  of  a  general  would  you 
think  him  to  be  ?  I  should  think  him  a  mighty  absurd 
one,  he  replied,  if  this  be  true. 

Chap.  VII.  Shall  we  not  say,  then,  said  I,  that  the 
power  of  computing  and  reckoning  is  a  necessary  attain- 
ment for  a  military  man?  Most  certainly,  he  replied,  if 
he  intends  to  understand  anything  at  all  about  marshal- 
ing troops,  or  rather,  if  he  means  to  be  a  man.  Do 
you  then  understand,  said  I,  about  this  branch  of  learn- 
ing just  what  I  do?  What  is  that?  It  seems  in  its  na- 
ture to  be  among  the  number  of  those  things  which  lead 
to  pure  reason  —  of  which  indeed  we  are  in  search;  but  no 
one  seems  rightly  to  employ  it,  as  evidently  leading  the 
mind  to  the  consideration  of  true  being.  How  say  you? 
inquired  he.  I  will  at  least,  try,  said  I,  to  explain  what 
is  my  opinion.  As  to  what  I  distinguish  in  my  own 
mind  as  leading  or  not  leading  whither  we  are  saying 
[viz.,  to  true  being],  do  you  assist  me  in  contemplating 
them,  and  either  agree  or  dissent,  so  that  we  may  more 
distinctly  see  whether  they  be  such  as  I  conjecture. 
Pray  show  me,  said  he.  I  will  show  you,  then,  said  I, 
if  you  will  observe  that  some  things  relating  to  the  per- 
ceptions do  not  invite  intellect  to  the  inquiry,  as  being 
sufficiently  determined  by  perception ;  while  there  are 
other  things  which  by  all  means  bid  its  interference,  as 
perception  alone  does  nothing  correct.  You  are  evi- 
dently speaking,  said  he,  of  objects  seen  at  a  distance, 
and  things  sketched  in  a  picture.  You  have  not  quite 
comprehended  my  meaning,  said  I.  What  are  you  speak- 
ing of,  then?  asked  he.  There  are  some  things,  replied 
I,  which  do  not  appeal  [to  the  intellect],  and  yet  do  not 
issue  at  once  into  a  contrary  perception;  while  those 
that  do  so  issue  I  consider  as  so  appealing,  when  the 
perceptive  faculty  takes  cognizance  of  one  thing  more 
than  another,  on  meeting  it  either  near  or  afar  off. 
And  you  will  thus  more  clearly  know  what  I  mean: 
these  we  say  are  three  fingers,  the  little  finger,  the  next 
to  it,  and  the  middle  finger.  Just  so,  observed  he.  Con- 
sider me,  then,  to  speak  of  them  as  seen  only  from  a 
short  distance,  and  consider  this  also,  respecting  them. 


244 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


What?  Each  of  them  appears  equally  to  be  a  finger, 
and  so  far  it  makes  no  difference  whether  one  looks  at 
the  middle  one  or  the  last,  whether  it  be  white  or  black, 
thick  or  slender,  or  anything  of  the  kind;  for  in  all 
these  the  soul  of  man  is  not  compelled  to  ask  the  int^el- 
lect  what  of  many  things  a  finger  is,  for  sight  itself 
never  at  the  same  time  indicates  a  finger  to  be  a  finger, 
and  its  contrary.  Of  course  not,  replied  he.  It  is  prob- 
able, then,  said  I,  that  such  a  case  as  this  would 
neither  appeal  to  nor  rouse  the  intellect.  Probably. 
But  what  then;  does  the  sight  sufficiently  distinguish 
their  large  or  small  size,  and  does  it  make  no  difference 
to  it  whether  one  of  them  be  placed  in  the  middle  or  at 
the  end?  And  so  in  like  manner  does  the  sense  of  touch 
take  cognizance  of  thickness  and  slenderness,  softness 
and  hardness?  And  as  for  other  perceptions,  are  they 
not  defective  in  showing  such  things,  or  rather  does  not 
each  of  them  so  act;  and  first  of  all,  is  not  the  sense 
which  is  affected  by  hardness  necessarily  also  affected 
by  softness,  and  does  it  not,  when  it  perceives  this,  an- 
nounce to  the  soul,  that  hard  and  soft  are  one  and  the 
same  thing?  Just  so,  he  replied.  It  must  necessarily 
follow  then,  said  I,  that  in  such  matters,  the  soul  will 
be  in  doubt  as  to  what  the  perception  indicates  as  hard, 
since  it  calls  the  same  thing  soft  also;  and  so  also  as 
regards  the  sense  referring  to  light  and  heavy,  the  soul 
must  be  in  doubt  what  is  light  and  what  is  heavy,  if 
the':  sense  intimates  heavy  to  be  light,  and  light  heavy. 
These  at  least,  said  he,  are  truly  absurd  reports  made 
to  the  soul,  and  require  investigation.  Probably,  then, 
said  I,  in  such  cases  as  these  the  soul  would  first  call  in 
reason  and  intelligence  to  investigate  the  question 
whether  the  things  reported  be  one  or  whether  they  be 
two.  Of  course.  If,  then,  they  appeared  to  be  two,  each 
of  them  will  appear  to  be  one  and  distinct  from  the 
other?  Yes.  If,  then,  each  of  them  be  one  and  both  of 
them  two,  he  will  understand  them  to  be  two  distinct; 
for,  were  they  not  distinct,  he  would  not  perceive  two, 
but  only  one.  Right.  The  sight,  moreover,  we  say, 
could  contemplate  what  is  great  and  small,  though  not 
as  distinct  from  each  other,  but  as  somewhat  confused: 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


24S 


could  it  not?  Yes.  But  for  the  sake  ot  clearness  in 
this  matter,  the  intellect  is  once  more  obliged  to  con- 
sider great  and  small,  not  as  confused,  but  as  distinct 
in  an  opposite  way  from  the  other, —  viz.,  the  sense  of 
sight.  True.  And  is  it  not  hence  somehow,  that  it  first 
sets  on  questioning  us,  as  to  what  is  the  great  and  what 
is  the  small?  Assuredly.  And  thus,  then,  we  call  the 
one  intelligible  and  the  other  visible.  Very  right,  he 
replied. 

Chap.  VIII.  This  then  is  what  I  just  now  attempted 
to  express,  that  some  things  appeal  to  the  intellect  and 
others  not;  defining  those  that  make  such  an  appeal,  as 
what  affect  the  senses  at  the  same  time  as  their  opposites, 
while  such  as  do  not,  do  not  excite  the  intellect.  I  quite 
understand  now,  said  he;  and  I  am  of  the  same  opinion. 
What  then:  to  which  of  them,  think  you,  do  number 
and  unity  belong  ?  I  do  not  understand,  replied  he. 
But  let  us  reason  by  analogy,  said  I,  from  what  we  have 
already  said :  for  if  unity  can  be  sufficiently  seen  of  itself, 
or  comprehended  by  any  other  sense,  it  still  would  not 
lead  to  true  being,  just  as  we  remarked  about  the  finger; 
but  if  there  be  always  seen  at  the  same  time  an  exact 
opposite  thereto,  so  that  it  shall  no  more  appear  unity 
than  it  does  the  contrary,  some  one  would  then  be  wanted 
to  judge  respecting  it;  and  in  that  very  matter  the  soul 
would  necessarily  be  in  difficulty,  exciting  reflection 
within  itself,  and  would  inquire  into  the  nature  of  this 
same  unity,  and  thus  that  branch  of  science  which  con- 
cerns unity  would  be  among  those  which  lead  and  turn 
the  soul  to  the  contemplation  of  real  being.  Ah,  said 
he;  this  is  what  the  very  sight  of  it  does  in  no  small 
degree;  for  we  at  once  behold  the  same  thing,  both  as 
one  and  as  an  infinite  multitude.  If  then,  said  I,  unity 
be  thus  affected,  will  not  number  generally  be  so  like- 
wise ?  Of  course.  Yet,  again,  all  computation  and  arith- 
metic concern  number  ?  Quite  so.  But  these  at  least 
seem  to  lead  toward  truth  ?  Especially  so,  of  course. 
They  belong  then,  it  seems,  to  the  branches  of  learning 
which  we  are  now  investigating ;  for  a  military  man  must 
necessarily  learn  them  with  a  view  to  the  marshaling 


246 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


of  his  troops,  and  so  must  a  philosopher  with  the  view 
of  understanding  real  being,  after  having  emerged  from 
the  unstable  condition  of  becoming,  or  else  he  can  never 
become  an  apt  reasoner.  That  is  the  fact,  he  replied. 
But  that  guardian  of  ours  happens  to  be  both  a  military 
man  and  a  philosopher  ?  Unquestionably  so.  It  would 
be  proper  then,  Glaucon,  to  lay  down  laws  for  this  branch 
of  science  and  persuade  those  about  to  engage  in  the 
ftiost  important  state  matters  to  apply  themselves  to  com- 
putation, and  study  it;  not  in  the  common  vulgar  fash- 
ion, but  with  the  view  of  arriving  at  the  contemplation 
of  the  nature  of  numbers  by  the  intellect  itself, — not  for 
the  sake  of  buying  and  selling  as  anxious  merchants  and 
reta.ilers,  but  for  war  also,  and  that  the  soul  may  acquire 
a  facility  of  turning  itself  from  what  is  in  course  of  gen- 
eration to  truth  and  real  being.  A  capital  remark,  he 
replied.  And,  moreover,  I  now  observe,  said  I,  respect- 
ing that  branch  of  science  which  concerns  computation, 
how  refined  it  is,  and  in  many  ways  useful  to  us  as  re- 
spects our  wishes,  if  we  will  apply  thereto  for  the  sake 
of  getting  knowledge,  and  not  with  a  view  of  traffic.  In 
what  way  ?  inquired  he.  Just  what  we  now  said,  that  it 
powerfully  leads  the  soul  upward,  and  compels  it  to 
reason  on  abstract  numbers,  without  in  any  way  allow- 
ing a  person  in  his  reasoning  to  advance  numbers  which 
are  visible  and  tangible  bodies;*  for  perhaps  you  know 
of  some  persons  skilled  in  these  matters,  who,  if  one 
were  in  argument  to  attempt  dividing  unity  itself,  would 
at  once  both  ridicule  him  and  not  allow  it;  though,  were 
YOU  to  divide  it  into  parts,  they  would  multiply  them, 
lest  unity  should  somehow  seem  not  to  be  unity,  but 
numerous  parts.  A  very  true  remark,  he  replied.  What 
think  you  then,  Glaucon,  if  a  person  should  ask  them — 
You  wonderfully  clever  men,  about  what  kind  of  num- 
bers are  you  reasoning;  in  which  unity,  such  as  you 
deem  it,  is  equal,  each  whole  to  the  whole,  without  any 

*  Abstract,  ideal  numbers,  Plato  terms  avTol  ol  apidfioi;  and  these 
only  are  the  subject  of  scientific  calculation.  The  concrete  numbers 
(apid/wl  a^fiara  exovreg)  are  the  subjects  only  of  every  day  practical 
enumeration  and  computation.  The  monad  is  the  idea  of  unity, 
abstract,  indivisible  unity  (avro  to  iv),  the  duad  of  abstract  duality,  etc. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


247 


difference  whatever,  and  having-  no  parts  in  itself  ?  what 
think  you  they  would  reply?  This,  as  far  as  I  think; 
that  they  speak  of  such  numbers  only  —  as  can  be  compre- 
hended by  the  intellect  alone,  but  in  no  other  way.  You 
see  then,  my  friend,  I  observed,  that  our  real  need  of 
this  branch  of  science,  is  probably  because  it  seems  to 
compel  the  soul  to  use  pure  intelligence  in  the  search 
after  pure  truth.  Aye,  remarked  he,  it  does  this  to  a 
remarkable  extent.  Have  you  yet  considered  this,  that 
persons  naturally  skilled  in  computation  seem  clever  in 
all  branches  of  science,  whereas  those  naturally  slow,  if 
instructed  and  exercised  in  this,  will  yet  all  of  them,  if 
they  derive  no  other  advantage,  make  such  progress,  as 
to  become  cleverer  than  they  were  before  ?  Exactly  so, 
he  replied.  And,  moreover,  I  think  you  will  not  easily 
find  that  many  things  give  the  learner  and  student  more 
trouble  than  this.  Of  course  not.  On  all  these  accounts, 
then,  we  must  not  omit  this  branch  of  science,  but  those 
with  the  best  of  talents  should  be  instructed  therein  !  I 
agree  with  you,  he  replied. 

Chap.  IX.  Let  this  one  thing  then,  said  I,  [that  has 
just  been  discussed],  be  settled  between  us;  and  now  let 
us  consider,  in  the  second  place,  with  respect  to  what 
follows  from  it, —  whether  and  how  far  it  concerns  our- 
selves. What  is  it,  said  he ;  is  it  geometry  you  mean  ? 
That  very  thing,  said  I.  So  far,  observed  he,  as  it  bears 
a  relation  to  the  concerns  of  war,  it  evidently  does  con- 
cern us;  for  in  pitching  encampments,  occupying  posi- 
tions, contracting  and  extending  a  line  of  troops,  and  as 
respects  all  the  varied  forms  in  which  they  draw  up 
armies,  either  in  battle  itself  or  during  a  march,  it  would 
make  a  vast  difference,  whether  a  general  were  a  geo- 
metrician or  not.  Of  course,  rejoined  I,  for  such  purposes 
as  these  a  very  slender  knowledge  of  geometry,  and  a 
small  portion  of  arithmetic  would  suffice ;  but  as  for  any 
considerable  amount  thereof,  and  great  progress  in  it,  we 
must  inquire  how  far  they  tend  to  this, — namely,  to  make 
us  apprehend  more  easily  the  idea  of  the  good:  and  we 
say  that  all  things  contribute  thereto,  which  compel  the 
soul  to  turn  itself  to  that  region  in  which  is  the  happiest 


248  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 

portion  of  true  being,  which  it  must  by  all  means  per- 
ceive. Your  remark  is  correct,  said  he.  If  then  it  com- 
pels the  soul  to  contemplate  true  being,  it  is  suitable, — 
but  if  only  what  is  sensible  and  evanescent,  it  is  not 
suitable.  Aye,  truly,  we  say  so.  This  point  then,  at 
least,  said  I,  those  who  have  but  little  acquaintance  with 
geometry,  will  not  argue  with  us, —  that  this  science  has 
an  entirely  opposite  nature  to  the  words  employed  in  it 
by  those  who  practice  it.  How  ?  said  he.  They  speak 
somehow  most  absurdly,  and  necessarily  so,  since  all  the 
terms  they  use  seem  to  be  with  a  view  to  operation  and 
practice, —  such  as  squaring,  producing,  adding,  and  such- 
like sounds;  whereas  on  the  other  hand,  the  whole  science 
should  be  studied  for  the  sake  of  real  knowledge.  As- 
suredly, said  he.  Is  this,  then,  further  to  be  agreed  on  ? 
What  ?  That  [it  be  studied]  with  a  view  to  the  knowl- 
edge of  eternal  being,  and  not  of  that  which  is  subject 
to  generation  and  destruction  ?  We  may  well  grant  that, 
said  he;  for  it  is  the  business  of  geometry  to  concern 
itself  with  eternal  being.  It  would  have  a  tendency, 
therefore,  gentle  sir,  to  draw  the  soul  to  truth,  and  to 
cause  a  philosophic  intelligence  to  direct  upward  [the 
thoughts]  which  we  now  improperly  cast  downward. 
As  much  as  possible,  he  replied.  As  far  as  posible,  then, 
said  I,  we  must  give  special  orders,  that  the  inhabitants 
of  that  fine  state  of  yours  should  by  no  means  omit  the 
study  of  geometry,  since  even  its  by-works  are  not  incon- 
siderable. What  are  they  ?  inquired  he.  Those  which  you 
have  just  mentioned  that  concern  war;  and  indeed  with 
reference  to  all  branches  of  science,  for  the  better  under- 
standing thereof,  we  are  some  how  sure  that  it  makes  an 
entire  difference  every  way,  whether  a  man  be  acquainted 
with  geometry  or  not.  Every  way,  indeed,  by  Zeus, 
observed  he.  Let  us  fix  on  this,  then,  as  the  second 
branch  of  learning  for  youth.  Let  us  so  fix  it,  he  re- 
plied. 

Chap.  X.  But  what;  shall  we  fix  upon  astronomy  as 
the  third,  or  think  you  otherwise  ?  I  quite  think  we 
should,  said  he;  for  to  have  unusually  acute  percep- 
tions respecting   the   times    of  months   and   years,  is 


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249 


suitable  not  only  for  agriculture  and  navig-ation,  but 
not  less  so  for  the  art  of  war.  You  arc  jesting,  said 
I,  when  you  seem  to  be  afraid  that  the  multitude 
will  charge  you  with  enjoining  useless  objects  of  study: 
yet  it  is  not  altogether  a  trifle,  but  rather  difficult 
to  persuade  that  by  these  branches  of  study  some  organ  of 
the  soul  in  each  individual,  is  purified  and  rekindled 
like  fire,  after  having  been  destroyed  and  blinded  by 
other  kinds  of  study, — an  organ,  indeed,  better  v^rth 
saving  than  ten  thousand  eyes,  since  by  that  a.  one 
can  truth  be  seen.  Among  such,  then,  as  join  me  in 
this  opinion,  you  will  have  the  reputation  of  reasoning 
admirably  well;  though  such  as  never  had  any  per- 
ception of  this  will  think  perhaps  that  you  say  noth- 
ing to  the  purpose,  as  they  see  no  advantage  therefrom 
accruing  that  is  worthy  of  notice.  Consider,  then, 
from  this  point,  against  which  of  the  parties  you  are 
arguing, —  or  whether  against  neither,  but  chiefly  for 
your  own  sake  you  are  carrying  on  the  discussion; 
moreover,  do  not  envy  any  other,  if  therefrom  any 
one  could  derive  any  possible  advantage.  Thus,  said 
he,  do  I  choose,  on  my  own  account  chiefly,  to  argue 
and  ask  questions,  and  make  replies.  Let  us  go  a  lit- 
tle back,  then,  in  our  argument,  for  just  now,  indeed, 
we  did  not  rightly  take  what  is  next  in  order  after 
geometry.  How,  then,  did  we  act  ?  asked  he.  After 
a  plain  surface,  said  I,  we  took  a  solid  in  a  state 
of  revolution,  without  first  considering  it  by  itself, 
in  the  abstract;  but  the  correct  plan  is  to  take 
the  third  in  order,  after  the  second  dimension:  and 
this,  probably,  refers  to  the  dimension  of  cubes,  and 
what  has  to  do  with  depth.  Aye,  it  is  so,  said  he: 
but  these  matters,  Socrates,  do  not  seem  yet  to  have 
been  investigated.  Aye,  there  are  two  causes  for  this: 
because  no  state  holds  them  in  honor,  they  are  only 
slightly  investigated,  as  being  difficult;  and  those  that 
do  so  investigate  them  require  a  guide,  without  whom 
they  cannot  discover  them, —  one  whom,  first  of  all,  it 
would  be  hard  to  get,  and,  when  he  is  got,  as  things 
are  at  present,  the  investigators  of  these  matters  hav- 
ing lofty  notions  of  themselves,  would  not  obey  him; 


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whereas,  if  the  whole  state  were  to  hold  such  pursuits 
in  honor,  and  superintend  them,  these  persons  would 
be  obedient,  and  the  investigations  being  conducted 
with  assiduity  and  vigor,  would  exhibit  their  true 
character;  whereas  now,  despised  and  mutilated  by  the 
multitude,  as  well  as  by  those  who  study  them  with- 
out being  able  to  account  for  their  usefulness,  they 
still,  in  spite  of  all  things,  increase  through  their  native 
grace;  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  they  should  appear 
so  to  do.  Aye,  indeed,  said  he,  this  gracefulness  is 
especially  remarkable;  hut  tell  me  more  plainly  what 
you  were  just  now  saying, —  for  you  somehow  defined 
geometry  to  be  a  study  that  concerns  plane  surfaces. 
I  did,  said  I.  Then  next  in  order  you  mentioned  as- 
tronomy; but  afterward  you  drew  back.  Yes,  replied 
V-  I,  because  when  I  am  in  a  hurry  to  get  quickly  over 
the  discussion,  I  get  on  the  more  slowly;  for  as  re- 
gards the  mode  of  measuring  depth,  which  is  next  in 
order,  that  I  passed  over,  as  a  hopeless  investigation, 
and  proceeded,  after  geometry,  to  speak  about  astronom}^, 
which  is  the  motion  of  solids.  You  say  rightly,  ob- 
served he.  Let  us  fix  on  astronomy,  then,  said  he,  as 
a  fourth  branch  of  science;  as  if  that  which  we  now 
omit  [vz;z.,  solid  geometry]  may  have  an  existence, 
whenever  the  state  enters  on  that  pursuit.  Probably, 
said  he:  and  as  to  what  you  just  now  urged  on  me, 
Socrates,  about  astronomy,  as  having  needlessly  praised 
it,  I  now  praise  it  in  accordance  with  your  notions: 
for  I  think  it  is  clear  to  every  one,  that  it  is  this 
which  compels  the  soul  to  look  upward,  and  from 
what  is  here  conducts  it  thither.  Perhaps,  rejoined  I, 
it  may  be  clear  to  all  except  myself ;  to  me  it  does 
not  seem  so.  Ah !  how  is  that  ?  said  he.  As  those 
who  introduce  it  into  philosophy,  nowadays  pursue  it, 
it  makes  the  soul  look  altogether  downward.  How 
say  you  ?  inquired  he.  I  am  of  opinion,  replied  I,  that 
you  are  not  ungenerous  in  forming  your  mental  esti- 
mate of  the  real  nature  of  that  branch  of  science  which 
concerns  things  above;  for  you  seem  to  be  of  opinion, 
that  if  a  person  were  to  look  up  and  discover  some 
of  the  heavenly  bodies  in  an  enclosed  space,  he  would 


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251 


contemplate  them  with  his  intellect  and  not  his  eyes. 
Perhaps,  then,  you  judge  rightly,  and  I  am  wrong; 
though  I,  on  the  other  hand,  cannot  hold  the  opinion 
that  any  other  branch  of  science  can  make  the  soul 
look  upward,  except  that  which  concerns  real  being 
and  the  invisible, —  whether  one  were  to  gape  upward, 
or  try  by  peering  downward  to  get  acquainted  with 
those  matters:  and  if  any  one  were  to  gape  upward 
and  so  try  to  get  acquainted  with  any  perceptible  ob- 
ject, I  think  that  he  never  would  get  acquainted  with 
it;  as  his  soul  has  no  scientific  knowledge  of  such 
things, —  nor  would  his  soul  look  upward,  but  down- 
ward,—  even  though  he  were  to  try  to  learn,  swim-_ 
ming  on  his  back  at  sea  or  lying  so  on   the   ground. - 

Chap.  XI.  I  am  punished,  rejoined  he ;  for  you  have 
rightly  reproved  me:  but  in  what  manner  did  you  say 
we  ought  to  learn  astronomy  different  from  that  in  which 
they  now  teach  it,  if  people  are  to  be  taught  advantage- 
ously for  the  purposes  of  which  we  now  speak  ?  Thus, 
said  I:  these  various  bright  bodies  in  the  heaven,  since, 
indeed,  they  are  so  variously  placed  in  visible  space, 
ought  to  be  deemed  very  beautiful  and  most  perfect  in 
their  kind,  though  much  inferior  to  the  true  magnificence 
of  movement,  with  which  real  velocity  and  real  retarda- 
tion mutually  bear  along  those  bodies  with  all  that  be- 
longs to  them,  in  their  true  number  and  in  all  their  true 
shapes;  which  things,  indeed,  can  be  apprehended  only 
by  reason  and  intelligence,  not  by  sight:  do  you  think 
they  can  ?  By  no  means,  said  he.  Must  we  not  then, 
said  I,  use  the  various  heavenly  phenomena,  as  an  exhi- 
bition for  the  purpose  of  instructing  us  in  those  [real] 
concerns,  just  as  one  might  meet  with  sketches,  capitally 
well  drawn  and  elaborated  by  Daedalus,  or  some  other 
artist  or  painter  ?  For  one  skilled  in  geometry,  on  see- 
ing such  drawings,  would,  perhaps,  think  them  to  be 
exceedingly  well  wrought,  and  nevertheless  deem  it  ab- 
surd to  give  them  a  serious  consideration,  as  if  he  were 
thence  to  get  his  conception  of  truth  about  equals,  or 
doubles,  or  any  other  proportion.  Of  course,  it  would  be 
absurd,  he  replied.     And  think  you  not  then,  that  the 


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true  astronomer  will  feel  just  the  same,  when  he  looks 
up  to  the  orbits  of  the  stars,  reckoning,  indeed,  that  the 
heavens  and  all  in  them  are  established  by  the  heavenly 
architect  in  the  most  beautiful  manner  possible  for  the 
formation  of  such  works;  and  would  not  one  deem  it 
absurd  of  a  man  to  conceive  that  this  proportion  of  night 
with  day,  and  of  both  these  to  a  month,  and  of  a  month, 
to  a  year,  and  of  other  stars  to  both  of  these,  and 
toward  each  other  has  existed  always  in  the  same  man- 
ner, and  withotit  experiencing  any  change,  because  they 
have  a  body,  and  are  visible,  and  so  to  take  all  possible 
means  to  apprehend  the  truth  of  these  things  ?  So  I 
think,  he  replied,  whilst  I  listen  to  you.  Let  us  then, 
said  I,  make  use  of  problems  [or  hypotheses]  in  astron- 
omy, as  in  geometry,  and  dismiss  the  heavenly  bodies, 
if  we  intend  really  to  get  acquainted  with  astronomy, 
and  render  useful  instead  of  useless  that  portion  of  the 
soul  which  is  naturally  intelligent.  You  really  impose, 
said  he,  a  far  harder  task  on  astronomers  than  is  en- 
joined them  at  present.  I  think,  however,  replied  I, 
that  we  must  enjoin  other  duties  likewise,  according  to 
the  same  fashion,  if  we  would  be  of  any  service  as 
lawgivers. 

Chap.  XIL  But  have  you  anything  to  suggest  about 
the  fitting  branches  of  study  ?  I  have  not,  he  replied, 
at  present  at  least.  Motion,  moreover,  said  I,  affords  us, 
I  think,  not  one,  indeed,  but  many  species  thereof;  all 
of  which  any  wise  man  can  probably  tell ;  but  those  which 
occur  to  me  are  two.  What  are  they  ?  In  addition  to 
this,  said  I,  there  is  its  counterpart.  Which  ?  As  the 
eyes,  said  I,  seem  formed  for  studying  astronomy,  so  do 
the  ears  seem  formed  for  harmonious  motions ;  and  these 
seem  to  be  twin  sciences  to  one  another,  as  also  the 
Pythagoreans*  say;  and  we  too,  Glaucon,  agree  with 
them:  how  shall  we  do?    Just  so,  replied  he.    Shall  we 

*It  is  here  alleged  that  there  are  two  species  of  motion  ((jiopd), — one 
affecting  the  eyes,  and  including  the  motion  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
which  are  the  subject-matter  of  astronomical  science, — the  other  affect- 
ing the  ears,  and  comprising  that  harmony  of  the  heavenly  motions 
which  the  Pythagoreans  conceived  to  have  given  the  first  notion  of 
music 


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253 


not,  then,  said  I,  since  it  is  a  matter  of  high  importance, 
inquire  of  them  how  they  speak  concerning  them,  and 
whether  they  have  anything  else  to  say  besides  this ;  but 
we,  notwithstanding  all  this,  shall  defend  our  own  con- 
clusion ?  What  is  that  ?  That  those  whom  we  educate 
should  never  attempt  to  learn  these  things  imperfectly, 
nor  without  always  aiming  at  the  object,  to  which  all 
ought  to  be  directed,  as  we  just  stated  with  reference  to 
astronomy:  and  do  not  you  know  that  they  do  some 
such  thing  with  regard  to  harmony  ?  for,  while  they 
measure  one  with  another  the  symphonies  and  sounds 
which  are  heard,  they  go  through  a  fruitless  toil,  like 
the  astronomers.  Aye,  by  the  gods,  said  he,  and  absurdly 
too,  when  they  make  very  frequent  trials  of  the  notes, 
lending  their  ears  to  catch  the  sound  as  from  a  neigh- 
bor's voice,  some,  indeed,  saying  that  they  hear  some 
middle  note,  with  the  smallest  appreciable  interval,  and 
others  again  doubtingly  saying  that  the  notes  are  just 
what  were  sounded  before,  both  parties  placing  the  ears 
above  the  intellect.  But  you  are  now  speaking,  said  I, 
of  those  thrifty,  money-making  musicians,  who  are  ever 
harassing  and  tormenting  their  strings,  turning  them  on 
the  pegs :  but,  that  the  comparison  may  not  be  too  tedious, 
I  refrain  from  speaking  of  their  complaints  about  the 
refusal  and  stubbornness  of  the  strings,  and  at  once  give 
up  the  simile,  saying  that  we  do  not  mean  to  speak  of 
these,  but  of  those  true  musicians  whom  we  before  men- 
tioned: for  these  do  here  just  what  the  others  did  in 
astronomy;  for  they  search  for  numbers,  in  the  sympho- 
nies which  they  hear,  but  do  not  go  on  to  the  inquiry 
proposed, — what  numbers  are  symphonious,  what  not, 
and  the  reason  why  they  are  either  the  one  or  the  other. 
You  speak,  said  he,  of  a  noble  undertaking.  It  is  service- 
able, of  course,  said  I,  in  the  search  for  the  beautiful 
and  good,  but,  if  pursued  in  another  manner,  it  is  quite 
useless.  Aye,  probably  so,  said  he.  Still,  methinks,  said 
I,  the  plan  of  inquiry  into  all  these  matters  that  we  have 
described,  if  it  touches  on  their  mutual  communion  and 
alliance,  and  proves  how  they  are  mutually  related,  will 
contribute  something  to  what  we  require,  and  our  labor 
will  not  be  fruitless;  but  otherwise  it  will.    I  likewise, 


254 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


said  he,  guess  the  very  same  thing:  but  you  are  speak- 
ing, Socrates,  of  a  most  laborious  undertaking.  Mean 
you  the  introduction,  or  what  else  ?  said  I :  what,  know 
we  not,  that  all  these  things  are  introductory  to  the  strain 
itself ;  *  which  we  ought  to  learn  ?  for  even  persons  clever 
in  these  things  you  perhaps  do  not  think  skilled  in  dia- 
lectics. No,  by  Zeus,  said  he,  only  §ome  very  few  of 
such  as  I  have  met.  But  supposing  some  of  them  not 
able,  said  I,  to  offer  and  admit  reasoning,  will  they  ever 
be  able  to  get  acquainted  with  what  we  say  they  ought 
to  know  ?  They  will  never  be  able  to  do  this,  he  replied. 
Is  not  this  then,  the  very  strain,  Glaucon,  said  I,  which 
dialectic  science  executes,  which  also,  being  cognizable 
by  the  intellect,  may  be  said  to  be  imitated  by  the  power 
of  sight,  which  faculty  seeks,  first,  as  we  observed,  to 
gaze  at  animals,  then  at  the  stars,  and  last  of  all  at  the 
sun  himself;  so  when  a  man  attempts  to  discuss  a  subject 
without  the  aid  of  his  perceptive  faculties,  he  is  impelled 
by  reason  to  what  is  individual  and  real  being;  and  if 
he  stops  not,  till  he  apprehends  by  intelligence  what  is 
the  good  itself,  then,  indeed,  he  arrives  at  the  end  of 
the  intelligible,  as  the  other  does  at  the  end  of  the  visible. 
Assuredly,  he  replied.  What  then;  do  not  you  call  this 
the  dialectic  process  ?    What  else  ? 

Chap.  XIII.  And  now,  said  I  [to  revert  to  our  former 
simile  of  the  man  in  the  cave],  there  is  his  liberation 
from  chains,  his  turning  from  shadows  toward  the  images 
and  the  light,  and  his  ascent  from  the  underground  cav- 
ern to  the  sun,  and  when  there,  his  looking  at  images 
in  water,  owing  to  a  want  of  power  at  first  of  beholding 
animals  and  plants  and  the  sun  itself;  so  also  here  [in 
the  intellectual  world]  you  have  the  contemplation  of 
divine  phantasms,  and  the  shadows  of  real  beings,  and 
not  the  shadows  of  images  shadowed  out  by  another  sim- 
ilar light,  as  by  the  sun.  All  this  exercise  in  the  arts 
which  we  have  discussed  has  this  tendency,  namely,  to 

*  Glaucon  is  here  complaining  of  the  difficulty  of  the  task  proposed ; 
and  Socrates  replies,  that  is  a  mere  introduction  or  prelude  to  the  main 
composition  or  piece  of  music  (meaning  dialectics)  that  is  to  follow. 
The  word  vdfiog  often  means  a  strain  or  piece  of  music. 


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255 


lead  back  .again  the  best  part  of  the  soul  to  the  contem- 
plation of  what  is  best  in  existing  beings;  as  in  the 
former  case,  what  is  brightest  in  the  body  is  led  to 
what  is  most  splendid  in  bodily  and  visible  existence.  I 
admit  these  things,  said  he;  though  it  really  seems  to 
me  extremely  difficult  to  admit  them,  though  in  other 
respects  difficult  not  to  admit  them.  However,  granting 
what  has  been  asserted  (for  we  shall  not  only  now  hear 
these  things,  but  often  again  discuss  them),  let  us  pro- 
ceed to  and  discuss  the  strain  itself,  as  we  have  finished 
the  introduction.  Say,  then,  of  what  kind  is  the  power 
of  dialectic,  into  what  species  is  it  divided,  and  what  are 
the  paths  leading  to  it ;  for  these  probably  conduct  us  to 
that  place,  which  we  shall  find  a  resting-place,  and  the 
end  of  our  journey.  "You  will  not  as  yet,  dear  Glaucon, 
said  I,  be  able  to  follow :  had  you  been  so,  no  zeal  would 
be  wanting  on  my  part;  nor  should  you  any  longer  only 
see  the  image  of  what  we  are  now  speaking  about,  but 
the  truth  itself,  or  what  to  me  seems  so.  Whether  it  be 
so  really  or  not,  however,  it  is  not  proper  positively  to 
affirm ;  but  that  it  is  somewhat  of  this  kind  may  be  most 
strongly  affirmed:  may  it  not?  Of  course.  And  further, 
that  it  is  the  power  of  dialectics  alone,  which  can  discover 
this  to  a  person  skilled  in  what  we  have  discussed,  and 
that  it  can  be  done  by  no  other  power.  This  also,  said 
he,  we  may  positively  affirm.  This  statement  at  least  no 
one,  said  I,  will  dispute  with  us,  that  no  other  method 
can  attempt  to  ascertain  through  a  regular  process  the 
nature  of  each  particular  being;  for  all  other  arts  respect 
either  the  opinions  and  desires  of  men,  or  generations 
and  compositions,  or  are  employed  wholly  in  the  study 
of  what  is  generated  and  compounded;  but  as  for  those 
others,  which  we  alleged  to  have  some  relation  to  being,  ), 
as  geometry,  and  its  dependent  sciences,  we  behold  them, 
as  if  dreaming  indeed  about  real  existence,  it  being 
impossible  to  have  a  true  vision,  so  long  as  they  employ 
hypotheses  and  keep  them  immovable,  without  the  power 
of  accounting  for  their  existence :  for  where  the  starting- 
point  is  the  unknown,  and  the  conclusion  and  intermedi- 
ate steps  are  connected  with  that  unknown  principle,  how 
can  any  such  kind  of  assent  ever  possibly  become  science  ? 


256 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


By  no  means,  replied  he.  Is  it  not  then  the  dialectic 
method  only,  said  I,  that  proceeds  thus  onward,  remov- 
ing all  hypotheses  back  to  the  starting-point,  that  it  may 
become  firmly  established,  and  so  gradtially  draw  and 
lead  upward  the  eye  of  the  soul,  which  was  truly  buried 
in  a  certain  barbaric  mire,  by  the  aid  and  guidance  of 
those  arts  we  have  mentioned,  which  through  custom  we 
frequently  call  sciences,  but  which  require  another  name 
clearer  indeed  than  opinion,  but  more  obscure  than  sci- 
ence ?  We  have  somewhere  in  the  former  part  of  our 
discourse  termed  it  a  reflection,  or  reasoning.  But  the 
controversy  is  not,  as  it  appears  to  me,  about  a  mere 
name,  when  people  are  investigating  things  of  such  great 
importance  as  those  now  before  us.    It  is  not,  said  he. 

Chap.  XIV.  You  are  pleased,  then,  said  I,  as  formerly, 
to  call  the  first  part  science,  the  second  reflection,  the 
third  faith,  the  fourth  conjecture,  both  these  last  being 
opinion,  and  the  two  former  intelligence ;  and  that  opinion 
is  employed  also  about  generation,  and  intelligence  about 
true  being;  likewise,  that  true  being  bears  to  generation 
the  same  relation  as  intelligence  to  opinion,  science  to 
faith,  and  reflection  to  conjecture;  but  as  for  the  analogy 
of  the  things  which  these  powers  respect,  and  the  two- 
fold division  of  each,  vie,  into  the  objects  of  opinion, 
and  those  of  intellect,  these  we  omit,  Glaucon,  that  we 
may  not  be  more  prolix  here  than  in  our  former  discus- 
sions. As  for  me,  said  he,  as  regards  those  other  things, 
so  far  as  I  can  comprehend,  I  am  of  the  same  opinion. 
But  do  not  you  call  that  man  skilled  in  dialectics,  who 
apprehends  the  reason  of  the  essence  of  each  particular  ? 
and  as  for  the  man  who  is  unable  to  give  a  reason  to 
himself,  and  to  another,  so  far  as  regards  this  inability, 
will  you  not  so  far  say  he  wants  intelligence  of  the 
thing  ?  Of  course  I  shall,  he  replied.  And  is  not  the 
case  the  same  with  reference  to  the  good  ?  whoever  can- 
not logically  define  it,  abstracting  the  idea  of  the  good 
from  all  others,  and  taking  as  in  a  fight  one  opposing 
argument  after  another,  and  cannot  proceed  with  unfail- 
ing proofs,  eager  to  rest  his  case,  not  on  the  ground  of 
opinion,  but  of  true  being,  such  an  one  knows  nothing 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


2S7 


of  THE  GOOD  ITSELF,  nor  of  any  good  whatever:  and 
should  he  have  attained  to  any  knowledge  of  the  good, 
we  must  say  he  has  attained  it  by  opinion,  not  science; 
that  he  is  sleeping,  and  dreaming  away  his  present  life ; 
and  before  he  is  aroused,  will  descend  to  Hades,  and 
there  be  profoundly  and  perfectly  laid  asleep.  By  Zeus, 
said  he,  I  will  certainly  affirm  all  these  things.  But 
surely,  methinks,  you  will  not  allow  those  children  of 
yours,  whom  you  are  ideally  training,  and  educating,  if 
ever  in  fact  you  should  educate  them,  to  have  the  supreme 
government  of  the  most  important  affairs  in  the  state, 
while  they  are  void  of  reason,  as  letters  of  the  alphabet  ? 
By  no  means,  he  replied.  You  will  lay  this  down  then 
as  a  law;  that  they  shall  most  especially  get  that  amount 
of  education  which  may  enable  them  to  question  and  an- 
swer in  the  most  scientific  manner.  I  will  make  that  a 
law,  said  he,  by  your  assistance  at  least.  Are  you  of 
opinion  then,  said  I,  that  dialectic  science  is  to  be  placed  * 
on  high  as  a  bulwark  to  moral  training,  and  that  no  other 
training  can  with  propriety  be  more  elevated  than  this, 
but  that  this  is  the  completion  of  scientific  training  ?  I 
am,  said  he. 

Chap.  XV.  There  now  remains  for  you,  said  I,  the 
regulation  of  the  persons  to  whom  we  shall  assign  these 
studies,  and  after  what  manner.  That  is  evident,  said 
he.  Do^  you  remember  then,  in  our  former  election  of 
rulers,  what  kind  we  chose  ?  Of  course  I  do,  said  he. 
As  to  other  things  then,  conceive,  said  I,  that  those  dis- 
positions should  be  selected,  and  that  we  should  prefer 
the  bravest,  most  resolute,  and,  as  far  as  possible,  the 
most  handsome;  and  besides  we  must  not  only  seek  for 
those  whose  manners  are  noble  and  grave,  but  such  as 
have  dispositions  adapted  to  this  education.  What  dis- 
position do  you  enjoin  ?  They  must  have,  said  I,  my 
excellent  friend,  acuteness  as  respects  instruction,  that 
they  may  learn  without  difficulty;  for  souls  are  much 
more  daunted  by  severe  mental  studies,  than  by  strenu- 
ous bodily  exercise ;  for  the  employment  which  is  most 
familiar  to  them  is  of  a  peculiar  nature,  having  no  con- 
nection with  the  body.  True,  said  he.  And  we  must 
17 


2S8 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


seek  for  one  of  good  memory,  hardy,  and  in  every  way 
fond  of  toil:  or  how  think  you  any  one  would  willingly 
endure  bodily  fatigue,  and  at  the  same  time  accomplish 
such  learning  and  study  ?  No  one,  said  he,  tinless  he  be 
in  all  respects  of  a  naturally  good  disposition.  The  mis- 
take then  about  philosophy,  and  the  dishonor  done  to  it, 
have  been  occasioned  by  this,  as  I  formerly  said,  that 
it  is  not  studied  in  a  way  suitable  to  its  dignity:  for  it 
ought  not  to  have  been  attempted  by  bastards,  but  the 
well-born.  How  ?  said  he.  In  the  first  place,  he  who  is 
to  apply  to  philosophy,  said  I,  must  not  be  lame  in  his 
love  of  labor,  half -laborious  and  half-averse  to  it;  and 
this  is  the  case,  when  a  man  is  fond  of  wrestling  and  hunt- 
ing, and  all  bodily  exercises,  but  has  no  fondness  for 
learning,  or  hearing  instruction  or  making  investigations, 
but  in  all  these  respects  has  an  aversion  to  labor.  He  too 
is  lame,  though  in  an  opposite  manner,  from  the  man 
who  has  wrongly  employed  his  love  of  labor.  You 
say  most  truly,  replied  he.  And  shall  we  not,  said  I,  in 
like  manner  account  that  soul  lame  as  to  truth,  which, 
though  it  hates  a  voluntary  falsehood  and  is  trotibled 
by  it,  and  is  vastly  indignant  when  others  tell  a  lie,  yet 
easily  admits  the  involuntary  lie,  and  if  at  any  time  it  be 
found  ignorant,  is  not  displeased,  but  like  a  savage  sow 
willingly  wallows  in  ignorance  ?  Assuredly,  said  he.  And 
in  like  manner,  said  I,  as  to  temperance  and  fortitude,  and 
magnanimity,  and  all  other  branches  of  virtue,  we  must 
no  less  carefully  attend  to  what  is  bastardly,  and  what  is 
well-born;  for  when  either  private  persons  or  a  state 
understand  not  how  to  attend  to  all  these  things,  they 
unwarily  employ  the  lame  and  the  bastardly  for  whatever 
they  want,  private  persons  employing  them  as  friends,  and 
states  as  governors.  Such  is  exactly  the  case,  said  he. 
But  we  must  be  on  our  guard,  said  I,  about  all  such  things ; 
so  that  if  we  select  for  such  extensive  discipline  such  as 
are  entire  in  body  and  mind,  and  take  care  to  instruct  them 
in  suitable  exercises,  justice  herself  will  not  blame  us, 
and  we  shall  preserve  both  the  state  and  constitution ;  but 
if  we  introduce  persons  of  a  different  description  into  these 
affairs,  we  shall  do  everything  the  reverse,  and  pour  still 
greater   contempt   on  philosophy.     That   indeed  were 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


259 


shameful,  said  he.  Certainly,  said  I.  But  I  myself  seem 
at  present  to  be  somewhat  ridiculous.  How  so  ?  said  he. 
I  forgot,  said  I,  that  we  were  amusing  ourselves,  and  I  spoke 
with  too  great  keenness ;  for,  while  speaking,  I  was  refer- 
ring to  philosophy;  and  seeing  her  most  unworthily 
abused,  I  seem  to  have  been  filled  with  indignation,  and, 
through  rage,  as  it  were,  with  those  who  are  the  cause  of 
it,  to  have  said  what  I  did  somewhat  too  earnestly.  No, 
truly,  said  he,  not  for  me  as  a  listener  at  least.  Aye,  but 
for  me,  said  I,  who  said  it :  but  let  us  not  forget  this,  that 
in  our  former  election  we  made  choice  of  old  men,  which 
in  this  will  not  be  allowed ;  for  we  must  not  believe  Solon, 
that  a  man  in  years  can  learn  many  things,  far  less  even 
than  running,  but  that  all  the  most  important  and  ntimer- 
ous  kinds  of  toil  are  assigned  to  the  young.  Of  necessity, 
said  he. 

Chap.  XVI.  Everything  then  relating  to  arithmetic  and 
geometry  and  all  the  previous  instruction  which  they 
should  receive  before  they  learn  dialectics,  ought  to  be 
set  before  them  while  they  are  children,  and  on  such  a 
plan  of  teaching  that  they  may  learn  without  compulsion. 
Why  so  ?  Because,  said  I,  a  free  man  ought  to  acquire 
no  learning  under  slavery;  for  the  labors  of  the  body 
when  endured  through  compulsion  do  not  at  all  deterior- 
ate the  body;  but  as  for  the  soul,  it  can  endure  no  com- 
pulsory discipline.  True,  said  he.  Do  not  then,  said  I, 
my  best  of  friends,  force  boys  to  their  learning;  but  train 
them  up  by  amusements,  that  you  may  be  better  able  to 
discern  the  direction  of  each  one's  genius.  What  you  say, 
replied  he,  is  reasonable.  Do  not  you  remember  our 
stating  then,  said  I,  that  the  boys  should  even  be  carried 
to  war,  as  spectators,  on  horseback,  and  be  brought  as 
near  as  possible  with  safety,  and  allowed  like  young 
hounds,  to  taste  the  blood  ?  I  remember,  said  he.  Who- 
ever then,  said  I,  shall  appear  the  most  forward  in  all 
these  labors,  studies,  and  dangers,  such  as  these  are  to 
be  selected  to  a  certain  number.  At  what  age  ?  said  he. 
When  they  have  finished  their  necessary  exercises,  said 
I ;  for  this  period  of  life,  even  should  it  last  two  or  three 
years,  cannot  accomplish  anything  else;  for  fatigue  and 


26o 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


sleep  are  hostile  to  learning;  and  this  too  is  none  of  the 
least  of  their  trials,  what  each  will  prove  himself  in  his 
exercises.  Certainly,  said  he.  And  after  this  period, 
said  I,  such  as  have  formerly  been  selected  of  the  age 
of  twenty  are  to  receive  greater  honors  than  others;  and 
those  studies,  which  in  their  youth  they  have  pursued 
promiscuously,  must  be  brought  before  them  in  one  view, 
that  they  may  see  the  connection  of  the  whole  with  each 
other,  and  with  the  nature  of  real  being.  This  indeed 
is  the  only  kind  of  instruction  that  will  abide  perma- 
nently in  those  in  whom  it  is  engendered.  And  this,  said 
I,  is  the  best  criterion  for  distinguishing  talents  natur- 
ally fitted  for  dialectics,  from  those  which  are  not  so. 
.  He  who  perceives  this  alliance  is  skilled  in  dialectics;  he 
who  does  not,  is  not  so.  I  am  of  the  same  opinion,  said 
he.  You  will  need  then,  said  I,  after  observing  these 
things,  and  seeing  who  are  most  distinguished  herein, 
and  who  persevere  both  in  learning  and  in  war,  and  in 
other  things  established  by  law,  to  make  choice  of  them 
after  they  exceed  thirty  years,  selecting  from  those  before 
chosen,  and  then  advance  them  to  greater  honors.  Ob- 
serving them  likewise  by  the  test  of  dialectics,  in  order  to 
ascertain  which  of  them  can  without  aid  from  the  eyes,  or 
any  other  sense,  proceed  with  truth  to  being  itself.  And 
here,  my  companion,  is  a  work  of  great  caution.  In  what 
principally  ?  said  he.  Do  not  you  perceive,  said  I,  how 
great  is  the  evil  which  at  present  attends  dialectics  ? 
What  is  it,  said  he,  you  mean  ?  [Its  followers],  observed 
I,  are  somehow  or  other  full  of  disorder.  Very  much  so 
replied  he.  Think  you  then,  said  I,  that  their  being  so 
is  at  all  extraordinary;  and  will  you  not  forgive  them  ? 
How  do  you  mean  ?  said  he.  Just  as  if,  said  I,  a  cer- 
tain supposititious  child  were  brought  up  in  great  opulence 
in  a  rich  and  noble  family,  and  amidst  many  flatterers, 
and  were  to  perceive,  when  grown  up  to  manhood,  that 
he  is  not  descended  from  those  alleged  to  be  his  parents, 
but  yet  cannot  discover  his  real  parents;  can  you  guess 
how  such  an  one  would  feel  both  toward  his  flatterers 
and  his  supposed  parents,  both  at  the  time  when  he  knew 
nothing  of  the  cheat,  and  again  at  the  time  when  he  came 
to  perceive  it  ?    Are  you  willing  to  hear  me  while  I  give 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


a  g'tiess  ?  I  am  willing-,  said  he.  I  guess  then,  said  I, 
that  he  will  honor  his  father  and  mother,  and  other  sup- 
posed relatives,  more  than  the  flatterers,  and  that  he  will 
neglect  them  less  in  case  of  their  need,  and  be  less  apt 
to  do  or  say  anything  amiss  to  them,  and  in  matters  of 
consequence  will  disobey  them  less  than  those  flatterers 
during-  that  period  in  which  he  knows  not  the  truth.  It 
is  likely,  said  he.  But  when  he  perceives  the  real  state 
of  the  case,  I  again  guess,  he  will  relax  in  honor  and 
respect  for  them,  and  attend  to  the  flatterers,  and  be  much 
more  persuaded  by  them  now  than  formerly,  and  live 
also  according  to  their  fashion, — while  for  the  father,  and 
the  rest  of  his  fictitious  relations,  if  he  be  not  of  an  en- 
tirely good  natural  disposition,  he  will  have  no  regard. 
You  mention  everything,  said  he,  just  as  it  would  hap- 
pen. But  in  what  manner  does  this  comparison  respect 
those  conversant  with  dialectics?  In  this:  there  are  cer- 
tain doctrines  abotit  justice  and  honor,  in  which  we  have 
been  bred,  as  by  parents,  from  childhood  to  render  them 
respect  and  obedience.  There  are,  said  he.  Aye,  and 
there  are  other  pursuits  also,  the  opposite  of  these,  at- 
tended by  pleasures  that  flatter  and  seduce  the  soul,  but 
do  not  persuade  those  who  are  in  any  degree  well-man- 
nered; because  these  honor  their  relations,  and  obey  them. 
Such  is  the  case.  What  then,  said  I,  if  to  a  person  thus 
affected  the  question  be  proposed,  What  is  the  beautiful  ? 
and,  in  reply  to  what  he  has  heard  from  the  law- 
giver, he  be  refuted  by  reason;  which  frequently  and  in 
all  ways  convicts  him  and  brings  him  round  to  the  opinion, 
that  objects  are  no  more  beautiful  than  they  are  de- 
formed; and  so  also,  as  respects  what  is  just  and  good, 
and  whatever  else  he  held  in  highest  esteem,  what  do 
you  think  such  an  one  will  after  this  do,  with  regard  to 
these  things,  as  to  honoring  and  obeying  them  ?  Of  ne- 
cessity, said  he,  he  will  no  longer  either  honor  or  obey 
them,  as  he  formerly  had  done.  If  then,  said  I,  he  no 
longer  deems  these  things  honorable,  and  allied  to  him 
as  formerly,  and  cannot  discover  those  which  really  are 
so,  can  he  possibly  with  readiness  join  himself  to  any 
other  life  than  that  of  flattery  ?  It  is  not  possible, 
said  he.     And  from  being  an  observer  of   the  law,  he 


262 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


will  now,  I  think,  appear  to  be  a  law-breaker.  Of 
necessity. 

Chap.  XVII.  Is  it  not  likely  then,  said  I,  that  the 
affections  of  persons  who  thus  engage  in  reasoning,  are 
deserving,  as  I  was  just  now  saying,  of  great  considera- 
tion ?  Aye,  and  pity  too,  said  he.  While  you  take  care 
then,  that  this  pitiable  case  befall  not  those  of  the  age  of 
thirty,  ought  they  not  by  every  method  to  apply  themselves 
to  reasoning  ?  Certainly,  said  he.  And  is  not  this  one  pru- 
dent caution,  that  they  meddle  not  with  discussions  while 
young:  for  you  have  not  forgotten,  I  suppose,  that  youths, 
when  they  first  join  in  discussions,  abuse  them  by  way  of 
mere  amusement,  ever  using  them  for  the  purpose  of  con- 
tradiction ;  and  in  imitation  of  those  who  are  refuters,  they 
themselves  oppose  others,  ever  delighting  like  whelps  to 
drag  and  tear  to  pieces,  by  arguments,  those  who  are  their 
neighbors.  Especially  so,  said  he.  And  after  they  have 
confuted  many,  and  been  themselves  confuted  by  many, 
then  they  vehemently  and  speedily  fall  into  an  indifference 
about  their  former  opinions;  and  by  these  means  they 
themselves  and  the  whole  of  philosophy,  are  calumniated 
by  the  rest  of  the  world.  Most  true,  said  he.  But  he  who 
is  of  a  riper  age,  said  I,  will  not  like  to  share  in  such 
madness,  but  will  imitate  him  who  is  disposed  to  reason 
and  inquire  after  truth,  rather  than  one  who,  for  the  sake 
of  diversion,  amuses  himself  by  contradiction;  and  he  will 
himself  be  more  modest,  thus  rendering  the  practice  of 
dispiiting  honorable  instead  of  dishonorable.  Right,  said 
he.  Have  not  then  all  our  former  remarks  been  rightly 
premised,  by  way  of  precaution  on  this  point,  that  those 
who  are  to  be  taught  dialectics  should  have  gracious  and 
steady  dispositions,  and  not  as  now,  when  every  chance 
person,  even  when  quite  unfit,  is  admitted  thereto  ?  Cer- 
tainly, said  he.  Is  twice  the  former  period  then  sufficient 
for  a  man  to  be  diligently  and  constantly  engaged  in 
acquiring  dialectics  without  doing  anything  else  but  prac- 
ticing by  way  of  contrast  all  bodily  exercises  ?  Do  you 
mean  six  years,  said  he,  or  four  ?  No  matter,  said  I ; 
make  it  five :  for  after  this  they  must  be  made  to  descend 
to  that  cave  again,  and  obliged  to  govern  both  in  things 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


263 


relating-  to  war,  and  in  other  youthful  offices,  so  as  not 
to  fall  short  of  others  in  expcricuce;  and  among  these 
they  must  be  still  further  tested,  that  it  may  be  seen 
whether  they  will  continue  firm,  when  drawn  in  all  direc- 
tions, or  be  somewhat  drawn  aside.  And  how  long  a 
time,  said  he,  do  you  reckon  for  this  ?  Fifteen  years,  said 
I.  And  when  they  are  of  the  age  of  fifty,  such  of  them 
as  have  been  kept  safely,  and  have  in  every  way  obtained 
all  the  prizes  both  in  actions  and  sciences,  are  now  to  be 
led  to  the  end,  and  are  to  be  obliged  to  incline  the  eye  of 
their  soul  to  look  at  that  which  imparts  light  to  all  things, 
and,  when  they  contemplate  the  good  itself,  to  use 
it  as  a  pattern,  each  in  turn,  either  state  or  private  per- 
sons, for  adorning  themselves,  during  the  remainder  of 
their  life,  for  the  most  part,  indeed,  occupying  themselves 
with  philosophy,  and  when  it  is  their  turn,  toiling  in  polit- 
ical affairs,  and  taking  the  government,  each  for  the 
good  of  the  state  performing  this  office,  not  as  something 
honorable,  but  as  a  thing  necessary;  and  after  bringing 
up  others  also  from  time  to  time  to  be  of  the  same  char- 
acter, and  leaving  them  to  be  state-guardians,  they  depart 
to  inhabit  the  islands  of  the  blest :  and  the  state  will  erect 
monuments  for  them  at  the  public  cost,  and  if  the  Pythian 
goddess  consent,  will  offer  sacrifice,  as  to  superior  beings, 
if  not,  as  to  happy  and  divine  men.  Socrates,  said  he, 
you  have  made  our  governors  all-beautiful,  just  as  a 
sculptor  would.  And  our  governesses  likewise,  Glaucon, 
said  I;  for  suppose  not  that  what  I  have  said  referred 
more  to  men  than  women,  such  at  least  as  have  sufficient 
talent.  Right,  said  he,  if  at  least,  as  we  said,  they  are 
to  share  in  all  things  equally  with  the  men.  What  then, 
said  I ;  do  you  agree,  that  with  reference  to  a  state  and 
form  of  government,  we  have  not  altogether  stated  mere 
wishes,  but  such  things  as  though  difficult  are  yet  in  a 
certain  respect  possible,  and  not  otherwise  than  has 
been  mentioned  [that  is],  when  true  philosophers, 
whether  one  or  more  of  them,  on  becoming  governors  in 
a  state,  despise  present  honors,  and  deem  them  illiberal 
and  of  no  value ;  but  esteem,  above  all  things,  rectitude 
and  the  honors  therefrom  derived;  account  justice  as  a 
thing  of   all  others  the  greatest,  and  most  absolutely 


264 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


necessary;  and,  by  ministering  to  it  and  advancing  it, 
thoroughly  regulate  the  constitution  of  their  own  state  ? 
How  ?  said  he.  Such,  said  I,  of  the  more  advanced  in 
life,  as  have  lived  ten  years  in  the  state,  let  them  send 
all  into  the  country;  and,  removing  their  children  away 
from  the  habits  now  contracted  by  domestics,  let  them 
bring  them  tip  according  to  their  own  manners  and 
laws,  as  we  formerly  described  them:  thus  the  state  and 
government  that  we  have  described  being  most  speedily 
and  easily  established,  will  both  be  happy  itself,  and  of 
the  greatest  service  to  the  people  among  whom  it  is 
established.  Very  much  so,  indeed,  said  he ;  and  you  seem 
to  me,  Socrates,  to  have  very  well  described  how  this 
state  will  rise,  if  it  rise  at  all.  Well,  then,  said  I,  have 
we  not  had  sufficient  talk,  both  about  such  a  state  as 
this,  and  the  individual  that  corresponds  thereto  ?  For 
it  is  now  clear,  perhaps,  what  kind  of  a  man  we  shall 
say  he  ought  to  be.  It  is  evident,  replied  he;  and  your 
inquiry,  methinks,  is  now  at  an  end. 


BOOK  VIII. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  mode  of  rightly  governing  a  state  having  been  duly  set  forth,  Plato 
in  the  eighth  book  treats  of  the  bad  government  which  he  had  pre- 
viously designated  as  achda.  Having  mentioned  then  three  principal 
forms  of  government,  monarchy,  aristocracy,  and  democracy,  he  shows 
in  this  and  also  in  the  following  book  the  excesses  and  defects  pecul- 
iar to  each.  .He  considers  these  faults  in  two  lights ;  first,  as  affecting 
the  manners  of  the  citizens  individually  ;  and  secondly,  those  of  the 
state  collectively.  Aristocracy,  says  he,  is  apt  to  verge  into  oligarchy, 
democracy  into  ochlarch}^  and  monarchy  into  nfcapxia  and  tyranny. 
The  two  former  classes  only  are  treated  in  this  book. 

Chapter  I.  Well,  then,  Glaucon,  these  things  have 
been  agreed  on,  that  in  a  state  that  is  to  be  perfectly 
administered  the  women  are  to  be  in  common,  the  children 
in  common,  and  their  education  also, — so  likewise  their 
employments  both  in  war  and  peace  in  common,  and  their 
kings  the  best  possible  both  in  philosophy  and  warfare. 
It  has  been  so  agreed,  he  replied.  And  this,  moreover, 
we  agreed  on,  that  when  the  commanders  are  appointed 
and  leading  their  soldiers,  they  should  dwell  in  habita- 
tions, such  as  we  have  described,  containing  nothing 
particularly  belonging  to  any  individual,  but  common  to 
all;  and  besides  these  habitations,  we  agreed  also,  if  you 
recollect,  as  to  their  possessions,  to  what  sort  they  should 
be  entitled.  Aye,  I  recollect,  said  he,  that  we  thought 
them  entitled  to  no  possessions  whatever,  like  the  other 
citizens,  but  that,  like  military  wrestlers  and  guardians, 
they  should  receive  the  yearly  pay  of  their  service  in 
maintenance  provided  by  the  rest,  and  should  take  care 
both  of  themselves  and  the  rest  of  the  state.  You  say 
rightly,  said  I :  but  come,  since  we  have  settled  these  mat- 
ters, let  us  recollect  from  what  point  we  made  this  digres- 
sion, in  order  that  we  may  again  take  up  the  same  argument. 

(265) 


266 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


No  hard  matter,  said  he ;  for  you  were  pursuing  much 
about  the  same  argument  respecting  the  state,  as  you  did 
just  now,  when  saying  that  you  considered  such  a  state 
to  be  good  as  yoi:  then  described,  and  the  individual  man 
also  analogous  thereto,  and  this  too,  as  it  seems,  when  you 
were  able  to  define  both  a  better  state  and  a  better  man. 
You  said,  moreover,  that  all  the  rest  were  wrong,  if  this 
were  right;  and  of  the  other  kinds  of  states  you  said,  I 
remember,  that  four  were  deserving  of  consideration,  with 
the  view  of  seeing  the  errors  therein  and  the  people  thereto 
corresponding, — in  order  that  by  seeing  all  these  and  de- 
ciding on  the  best  and  worst  man,  we  might  inquire 
whether  the  best  be  the  happiest,  and  the  worst  the  most 
wretched  or  otherwise:  and  when  I  inquired  which  were 
the  four  kinds  of  states  to  which  you  referred,  on  this 
Polemarchus  and  Adimantus  interrupted  us  ;*  and  so  now 
resuming  the  subject  you  have  arrived  at  this  point.  You 
have  recollected  it,  said  I,  with  great  accuracy.  Once 
more  then,  like  a  wrestler,  furnish  me  with  the  same 
handle ;  and  when  I  ask  the  same  question,  try  to  say  just 
what  you  were  then  about  to  tell  me.  Aye,  said  I,  if  I 
can.  Moreover,  said  he,  I  am  anxious  also  myself  to  hear 
what  those  four  kinds  of  states  were.  You  shall  hear  that, 
and  welcome,  said  I :  for,  of  those  which  I  can  mention 
and  which  have  names, —  that  praised  by  the  multitude  is 
the  Cretan  and  Lacedaemonian  polity, — the  second,  and  that 
which  deserves  the  second  praise,  called  oligarchy,  a  pol- 
ity full  of  abundant  evils, — that  which  differs  from  it,  and 
follows  next  in  order,  democracy, — and  then  genuine 
tyranny  [or  monarchy],  differing  from  all  the  others,  the 
fourth  and  last  ailment  of  the  state :  surely  you  have  no 
other  form  of  polity,  having  a  distinct  and  established 
species  ?  —  for  small  principalities  and  purchased  kingdoms, 
and  such -like  polities  as  these,  are  of  an  intermediate 
class,  and  may  be  found  no  less  among  barbarians  than 
Greeks.  Aye,  indeed,  said  he;  many  are  mentioned,  and 
those,  too,  absurd  enough. 

*This  refers  to  the  interraption  at  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  book, 
when,  Socrates  being  about  to  describe  the  four  kinds  of  wickedness 
in  both  individuals  and  states,  was  desired  to  develop  his  notions 
about  the  community  of  women  and  children. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


267 


Chap.  II.  Do  you  know,  then,  said  I,  that  of  men 
there  arc  as  many  descriptions  as  of  states  ?  or  do  you 
think  that  states,  somehow  or  other,  spring  out  of  an  oak 
or  a  rock,  and  not  out  of  the  habits  of  those  in  the  state, 
whither,  indeed,  everthing  else  must  verge  and  be  at- 
tracted ?  I,  for  my  part,  think  it  is  derived  from  no 
other  source  than  that.  In  that  case,  if  there  be  five 
kinds  of  states,  the  intellectual  distinctions  of  the  indi- 
viduals will  be  five  likewise.  Of  course.  As  for  the 
person  then,  who  resembles  an  aristocracy,  we  have  al- 
ready described  him,  and  rightly  pronounced  him  to  be 
both  good  and  just.  Aye,  we  have  described  him.  Are 
we  then,  in  the  next  place,  to  argue  about  the  inferior, 
the  contentious  and  ambitious  man  formed  according  to 
the  Spartan  model,  and  him  again,  who  resembles  an 
oligarchy,  or  a  democracy,  or  a  tyranny,  in  order  that  we 
may  contemplate  the  most  unjust,  and  contrast  him  with 
the  most  just,  and  thus  our  inquiry  may  be  complete, 
how  unmingled  justice  stands  in  opposition  to  unmingled 
injustice,  as  respects  the  happiness  or  misery  of  its  pos- 
sessor, thus  either  pursuing  injustice  in  compliance  with 
Thrasymachus's  suggestion,  or  else  justice  in  compliance 
with  our  present  argument  ?  We  must  do  so,  by  all 
means,  said  he.  Are  we  then,  just  as  we  began,  to  con- 
sider moral  habits  in  states  primarily,  or  rather  in  private 
individuals,  as  being  there  more  clearly  developed;  and 
now  must  we  not  thus  first  consider  the  ambitious  repub- 
lic (for  I  cannot  call  it  by  any  other  term,  but  only  de- 
nominate it  a  timocracy  or  a  timarchy),  and  in  connection 
with  it  an  individual  of  the  same  character,  then  again 
an  oligarchy  and  a  man  of  oligarchical  character,  and  so 
also,  when  considering  a  democracy,  must  we  contemplate 
a  democratic  person,  and,  fourthly,  coming  to  a  state 
governed  by  a  tyrant,  consider  a  person  of  tyrannical 
disposition ;  thus  trying  to  become  competent  judges  about 
what  we  proposed  ?  According  to  reason,  indeed,  such 
should  be  both  our  view  and  decision. 

Chap.  III.  Come  then,  said  I ;  let  us  try  to  show  in 
what  way  a  timocracy  arises  out  of  an  aristocracy:  is  it 
not  plain,  at  any  rate,  that  every  government  changes 


268 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


through  the  agency  of  that  portion  which  holds  the  public 
offices,  whenever  sedition  arises  in  that  particular  part; 
whereas,  if  it  only  agree  with  itself,  however  small  the 
state,  it  cannot  possibly  be  disturbed  ?  Such  is  the  case. 
How  then,  Glaucon,  said  I,  will  our  state  be  disturbed 
and  how  will  our  allies  and  rulers  fall  into  quarrels  with 
each  other  and  amongst  themselves:  do  you  wish,  like 
Homer,  that  we  implore  the  Muses  to  tell  us  how  first 
sedition  rose,  and  address  them  in  tragic  fashion,  as  if  we 
were  children,  playing  and  jesting,  so  to  speak,  with 
seriousness  uttering  lofty  language  ?  How  so  ?  Somehow 
thus:  it  is  hard  indeed  for  a  state  thus  constituted  to 
become  disturbed ;  but,  as  everything  generated  is  liable  to 
corruption,  not  even  such  a  constitution  as  this  can  abide 
for  ever,  but  must  be  dissolved:  and  its  dissolution  is  as 
follows.  Not  only  as  regards  terrestrial  plants,  but  like- 
wise terrestrial  animals,  a  fertility  and  sterility  both  of 
soul  and  body  take  place,  when  the  revolutions  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  complete  the  periphery  of  their  respective 
orbits,  which  are  shorter  to  the  shorter-lived,  and  con- 
trariwise to  the  contrary :  and  with  reference  to  the  fertility 
and  sterility  of  your  race,  though  those  are  wise  whom  you 
have  trained  as  governors  of  the  state,  yet  they  will  never, 
by  intellect  and  sense  united,  observe  the  proper  season 
for  procreation,  but  let  it  slip  by,  and  sometimes  generate 
children  when  they  ought  not.  To  that,  however,  which 
is  divinely  generated,  there  is  a  period  which  is  compre- 
hended by  the  perfect  number ;  whereas,  to  that  generated 
by  man,  there  is  one  in  which  the  augmentations,  both 
surpassing  and  surpassed,  after  having  received  three 
separations  and  four  boundaries  of  things  similar  and  dis- 
similar, increasing  and  decreasing,  will  render  all  things 
correspondent  and  rational;  of  which  the  sesquiternian 
root,  conjoined  with  the  pentad  and  thrice  increased, 
affords  two  harmonies,  one  of  these,  the  equally  equal, 
just  a  hundred  times  as  much;  while  the  other,  of  equal 
length  indeed,  but  of  oblong  shape,  is  of  a  hundred  num- 
bers from  effable  diameters  of  the  pentad,  each  wanting 
one,  two  of  which  are  irrational  and  of  a  hundred  cubes 
of  the  triad.  And  the  whole  of  this  geometric  number 
is,  having  such  an  influence,  concerned  with  worse  and 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


better  generations.  Now,  if  our  governors  be  ignorant  of 
this,  and  join  our  couples  together  unseasonably,  the 
children  will  neither  possess  talent,  nor  be  fortunate  either; 
and  though  former  governors  should  have  placed  the  best 
of  them  in  oflicc,  nevertheless  as  they  are  unworthy  of  it, 
and  only  come  into  the  power  which  their  fathers  had,  they 
will  begin  to  neglect  us  in  their  giiardianship,  holding 
music  first  of  all,  and  then  gymnastics  in  less  esteem  than 
they  ought,  and  hence  our  young  men  will  become  too 
little  disposed  to  music ;  in  consequence  of  which  the  gov- 
ernors to  be  appointed  from  among  them  will  not  be  very 
clever  guardians,  as  respects  proving,  according  to  Hesiod 
and  ourselves,  what  are  the  several  species  of  talents,  the 
golden,  the  silver,  the  brazen,  and  the  iron.  Where  iron, 
however,  mingles  with  silver,  and  brass  with  gold,  then 
there  arises  a  dissimilitude  and  unharmonious  unevenness; 
(and  when  this  is  the  case,  wherever  it  prevails,  it  per- 
petually generates  war  and  hatred) ;  we  must  say  that 
sedition  belongs  to  such  a  race  as  this,  whenever  it  arises. 
Aye,  and  we  shall  say  that  the  answer  was  correctly  given, 
replied  he.  Aye,  and  it  must  be  so  too,  said  I,  as  they  are 
Muses.  What  then,  said  he,  do  the  Muses  say  next  ? 
Sedition  having  once  arisen,  said  I,  two  classes  of  genius, 
the  iron  and  the  brazen,  will  be  allured  to  gain,  and  the 
acquisition  of  land  and  houses,  gold  and  silver,  while  the 
golden  and  silver,  not  being  in  poverty  but  naturally  rich, 
will  lead  souls  to  virtue  and  their  original  constitution; 
whereas,  should  they  be  violent  and  strive  one  against  the 
other,  they  would  agree  to  divide  their  lands  and  houses  as 
individual  possessions ;  and  then,  enslaving  those  formerly 
guarded  by  them  as  freemen,  friends,  and  tutors,  keep 
them  as  denizens  and  slaves,  themselves  providing  for  war 
and  their  own  protection.  This  revolution,  said  he,  seems 
to  me  to  have  just  this  origin.  Will  not  then  this  govern- 
ment, said  I,  be  a  medium  between  aristocracy  and  oli- 
garchy ?  Certainly. 

Chap.  IV.  Thus  then  will  the  revolution  be  effected, 
and  when  it  has  taken  place,  what  arrangement  will  then 
be  made  ?  Is  it  not  plain,  that  in  .some  things  they  will 
follow  the  pattern  of  the  former  republic,  and  in  others 


270 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


oligarchy,  as  halfway  between  the  two,  and  having  some- 
thing also  peculiar  to  itself  ?  Just  so,  he  replied.  Will 
they,  then,  in  honoring  their  rulers,  in  allowing  their 
military  to  abstain  from  agriculture,  as  with  us  from  me- 
chanical and  other  money-making  pursuits,  in  establishing 
common  meals,  and  in  studying  both  gymnastics  and  mil- 
itary contests,  in  all  these  things  will  they  not  follow  the 
pattern  of  the  last  form  of  government  ?  Yes.  But, 
through  the  fear  of  admitting  wise  men  into  the  magis- 
terial office,  inasmuch  as  the  state  no  longer  possesses 
men  who  are  simple  and  resolute,  but  only  such  as  are 
of  a  mixed  character,  and  through  an  inclination  toward 
the  high-spirited  and  even  simple,  naturally  more  suited 
for  war  than  peace,  and  also  toward  those  who  are  clever 
at  tricks  and  schemes,  spending  their  whole  time  in  con- 
tinual war;  in  all  these  respects,  will  it  not  possess  many 
such  things  as  are  peculiar  to  itself  ?  Yes.  And 
such  as  these,  said  I,  will  ever  be  lovers  of  wealth,  just 
like  those  in  oligarchies,  and  will  have  a  wild  though 
disguised  love  for  gold  and  silver,  as  if  they  possessed 
treasuries  of  their  own  and  domestic  storehouses  in 
which  to  hoard  and  hide  them,  and  circularly-enclosed 
houses  also,  nests  as  it  were,  wholly  their  own,  in  which 
they  can  lose  and  spend  much,  together  with  their  own 
wives  and  such  others  as  they  fancy.  Most  true,  said  he. 
Well  then,  will  they  not  from  their  love  of  wealth  be 
sparing  of  it  also,  though  not  openly  acquiring  it,  but  dis- 
posed to  squander  other  people's  property  through  lustful 
desire  and  secret  indulgence  in  pleasure ;  just  as  children 
escaping  from  parental  law,  who  have  been  brought  up 
not  by  persuasion  but  force,  owing  to  their  neglect  of  the 
true  muse,  which  unites  reasoning  and  philosophy  and  the 
preference  also  which  they  give  to  gymnastics  over  music  ? 
It  is  quite  a  mixed  government,  said  he,  of  which  you 
are  now  speaking,  compounded  of  good  and  ill.  Aye, 
mixed  indeed,  said  I ;  but  the  most  remarkable  thing  in 
it  is  what  simply  arises  from  the  prevalence  of  high 
spirit,  contention  and  ambition.  Aye,  just  so,  said  he. 
Such  then  is  the  origin  and  character  of  this  form  of 
government,  if  one,  may  ideally  sketch  it  without  giving 
a  complete  description,  though  enough  for  us  to  see  from 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


271 


this  sketch,  who  is  the  just  and  the  unjust  man;  and  it 
were  a  work  of  tedious  length  to  argue  on  all  govern- 
ments and  all  the  various  manners  of  men  without  any 
exception  whatever.    Quite  right,  said  he. 

Chap.  V.  What  then  will  the  individual  be,  who  cor- 
responds to  this  form  of  government;  how  did  he  become 
so;  and  what  is  his  nature?  I  think  indeed,  said  Adi- 
mantus,  he  has  a  tendency  to  be  like  this  Glaucon  here, 
as  far  at  least,  as  concerns  the  love  of  contention.  Per- 
haps so,  said  I,  as  to  this  particular;  but  I  think,  that 
in  these  respects  he  cannot  at  all  resemble  him.  How? 
He  must  necessarily,  said  I,  be  more  self-willed,  and 
somewhat  unapt  to  music,  though  fond  of  it;  and  fond 
of  hearing,  but  by  no  means  a  rhetorician:  such  an 
one  will  be  rough  toward  the  slaves,  without  despising 
them,  as  the  man  does  who  is  fairly  educated.  He  will  be 
polite  toward  the  free,  submissive  to  governors,  a  lover 
of  dominion  and  honor,  not  thinking  it  proper  to  govern 
by  eloquence  or  anything  of  the  kind,  but  by  political 
management  and  military  achievements,  being  a  lover 
of  gymnastics  and  hunting.  This  indeed,  said  he,  is 
the  spirit  of  that  form  of  government.  And  will  not 
such  an  one,  said  I,  despise  money  during  his  youth, 
but  the  older  he  grows,  always  value  it  the  more,  be- 
cause he  partakes  of  the  covetous  disposition,  and  is  not 
sincerely  affected  toward  virtue,  because  destitute  of 
the  best  guardian  ?  Of  what  guardian  ?  said  Adimantus. 
Reason,  said  I,  accompanied  with  music,  which  being 
the  only  inbred  preservative  of  virtue,  dwells  with  the 
possessor  through  the  whole  of  life.  You  say  well,  he 
replied.  And  surely  the  timocratic  youth,  said  I,  resem- 
bles such  a  state.  Certainly.  And  such  an  one,  said  I, 
is  somehow  thus  formed.  He  may  happen  perhaps  to  be 
the  j'outhful  son  of  a  worthy  father,  dwelling  in  an  ill- 
governed  state,  and  shunning  public  honors,  magisterial 
offices,  lawsuits,  and  all  such  public  business,  content  to 
live  neglected  in  obscurity,  that  he  may  have  no  trouble. 
In  what  manner  then,  said  he,  is  he  formed  ?  First  of  all, 
said  I,  when  he  hears  his  mother  complaining  that  her 
husband  is  not  in  magisterial  office,  and  that  she  is  on 


272 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


this  account  neglected  among  other  women,  and  then 
sees  that  he  is  not  over  attentive  to  the  acquisition  of 
wealth,  and  does  not  wrangle  and  quarrel  privately  and 
publicly  in  the  law  courts,  but  on  all  these  occasions  acts 
indolently;  and  when  she  perceives  him  always  attentive 
to  himself,  and  treating  her  neither  with  extreme  respect 
nor  contempt;  on  all  these  accounts  she  is  filled  with 
indignation,  and  tells  her  son  that  his  father  is  unmanly, 
extremely  careless,  and  whatever  else  wives  are  wont  to 
chant  about  such  matters.  Aye,  many  things,  truly,  said 
Adimantus,  and  quite  in  accordance  with  their  spirit. 
And  you  know,  said  I,  that  the  domestics  likewise  of 
such  families,  such  of  them  as  would  be  thought  good- 
natured,  sometimes  say  privately  the  very  same  to  the 
sons;  and  if  they  see  either  a  debtor  whom  the  father 
does  not  sue,  or  any  one  otherwise  acting  unjustly,  they 
exhort  him  to  punish  all  such  persons  when  he  comes  to 
manhood,  and  to  be  more  of  a  man  than  his  father. 
And  when  he  goes  abroad,  he  hears  other  such-like 
things,  and  sees  also  that  such  in  the  state  as  attend  to 
their  own  affairs  are  called  simple,  and  held  in  little 
esteem,  while  such  as  do  not  attend  to  their  affairs  are 
both  honored  and  commended.  The  youth  then  who 
hears  and  sees  all  this,  and  then  again  hears  his  father's 
speeches,  and  closely  observes  his  pursuits  in  contrast 
with  those  of  others,  is  drawn  in  two  opposite  directions, 
his  father  irrigating  and  promoting  the  growth  of  his 
rational  part,  and  the  others  his  passions  and  high  spirit; 
and  so,  being  not  naturally  bad,  but  spoiled  only  by  evil 
connection  with  others,  he  is  brought  to  a  mean  between 
both  and  delivers  up  the  government  within  himself  to  a 
middle  power,  the  love  of  contention  and  high  spirit; 
and  so  he  becomes  a  haughty  and  ambitious  man.  I 
think,  said  he,  you  have  quite  correctly  explained  the 
training  of  such  a  person.  We  have  here,  then,  said  I, 
the  second  form  of  government  and  the  second  individual. 
Aye,  we  have,  said  he. 

Chap.  VI.  Shall  we  not  then  after  this  say  with  ^schy- 
lus, — 

Where  state  to  state,  then  each  to  each,  incline;  — 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


273 


or  rather,  shall  we  according  to  our  plan,  establish  the 
state  first  ?  Certainly,  he  replied.  It  would  be  an  oligar- 
chy then,  methinks,  that  would  succeed  such  a  govern- 
ment as  this.  But  what  constitution  is  it,  said  he,  that 
you  call  an  oligarchy  ?  That  government,  said  I,  which 
is  founded  on  the  estimate  of  men's  property;  in  which 
the  rich  rule,  and  the  poor  have  no  share  in  the  govern- 
ment. Aye,  I  understand,  said  he.  Should  we  not,  first 
of  all  explain,  how  the  change  ig  made  from  a  timocracy 
to  an  oligarchy  ?  We  should.  And  surely  the  way,  in 
which  this  change  is  made,  said  I,  is  manifest  even  to 
the  blind  I  How  ?  That  treasury,  said  I,  which  each  one 
fills  with  gold  destroys  such  a  state ;  for,  first  of  all,  they 
discover  for  themselveg  modes  of  expense,  for  which  they 
set  aside  the  laws,  both  themselves  and  their  wives  diso- 
beying them.  Very  likely,  said  he,  and  afterwards,  I 
think,  when  one  observes  another,  and  enters  into  rivalry, 
the  people  generally  become  of  this  character.  It  is 
likely.  And  thence  then,  said  I,  as  they  advance  in  the 
intensity  of  the  desire  for  acquiring  wealth,  the  more 
honorable  they  account  this,  the  more  dishonorable  will 
they  deem  virtue;  for  is  not  virtue  so  at  variance  with 
wealth,  that,  supposing  each  to  be  placed  at  the  opposite 
end  of  a  balance,  they  would  always  weigh  the  one 
against  the  other  ?  Justly  so,  he  replied.  While  wealth 
then  and  the  wealthy  are  honored  in  the  state,  both  virtue 
and  good  men  must  necessarily  be  held  in  dishonor  ? 
It  is  plain.  And  what  is  honored  is  always  pursued, 
while  what  is  dishonored  is  neglected  ?  Just  so.  Instead 
then  of  being  contentious  and  ambitious  men,  they  have 
at  last  become  lovers  of  gain  and  wealth;  and  the  rich 
they  praise  and  admire,  elevating  them  to  the  magistracy, 
while  the  poor  man  they  quite  despise.  Certainly.  And 
do  they  not  enact  laws,  marking  out  the  boundary  of  the 
oligarchal  constitution,  and  regulating  the  quantity  of 
oligarchal  power  by  the  quantity  of  wealth,  allotting  more 
to  the  more  wealthy  and  less  to  those  less  so,  intimating 
that  he  who  has  not  the  amount  settled  by  law  can  have 
no  share  in  the  government ;  and  do  they  not  settle  these 
matters  compulsorily,  by  force  of  arms,  establishing  such 
a  state  after  previous  intimidation  ?    Is  it  not  thus  ?  Aye, 


274 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


indeed.  This,  then,  so  to  speak,  is  its  constitution  ?  Yes, 
replied  he.  What  then  is  the  nature  of  the  government, 
and  what  are  the  faults  thereto  ascribed  ?  First  of  all, 
said  I,  of  this  very  thing,  the  constitution  itself,  what 
think  you  ?  for  consider,  if  a  person  were  thus  to  appoint 
pilots  of  ships,  by  the  amount  of  their  property,  never 
intrusting  one  of  them  with  a  poor  man,  though  better 
skilled  in  piloting,  what  would  then  be  the  consequence  ? 
They  would  make  a  very  bad  voyage,  he  replied.  And 
is  it  not  the  same  about  any  other  matter,  or  any  presid- 
ing office  whatever  ?  I  think  so.  Is  it  always  so,  except 
in  a  state,  said  I ;  or  is  it  so  as  regards  a  state  likewise  ? 
There,  beyond  all  others,  said  he;  inasmuch  as  it  is  the 
most  difficult,  and  most  important  kind  of  government, 
Oligarchy  then  would  seem  to  have  this  unquestionably 
very  great  fault.  So  it  seems.  But  what;  is  this  no  less 
a  fault  ?  What  ?  That  such  a  state  is  not  integrally  one, 
but  necessarily  two;  one  containing  the  poor,  and  the 
other  the  rich,  dwelling  in  one  place  and  always  plotting 
against  one  another.  By  Zeus,  said  he,  not  a  whit  less; 
and  this  besides  is  a  fine  thing,  the  incapacity  of  waging 
war,  through  the  necessity,  either  of  employing  the  armed 
multitude,  who  are  to  be  dreaded  more  than  the  enemy 
themselves,  or  else  refusing  to  employ  them  at  all,  and 
so  appearing  quite  oligarchal  in  battle,  being  unwilling 
also  to  advance  money  for  the  public  service,  through  a 
natural  disposition  to  covetousness  ?  This  is  not  well. 
What  then;  with  reference  to  what  we  long  ago  con- 
demned, engaging  in  a  variety  of  pursuits,  the  same 
persons  in  such  a  state  giving  their  attendance  all  at 
once  to  agriculture,  money-making,  and  military  affairs; 
does  this  seem  right  ?    Not  at  all,  of  course. 

Chap.  VII.  Let  us  see,  then,  does  this  form  of  govern- 
ment above  all  others  introduce  this  greatest  of  all  evils  ? 
What  is  that  ?  The  permission  to  each  person  of  selling 
the  whole  of  his  effects,  and  to  another  of  purchasing 
them  from  him,  and  the  privilege  to  the  seller  of  dwell- 
ing in  our  state,  though  he  belongs  to  no  one  class 
therein,  and  can  be  called  neither  a  money-maker,  nor 
mechanic,  nor  horseman,  nor  foot-soldier,  but  poor  and 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


275 


destitute.  Yes,  above  all  others,  he  replied.  Such  a 
thing  is  not  prevented  in  oligarchal  governments;  for,  in 
that  case  some  of  them  would  not  be  over-rich,  and 
others  altogether  poor.  Right.  But  consider  this  like- 
wise ;  when  such  a  rich  man  as  this  spends  his  property, 
would  it  do  the  state  any  more  service,  as  regards  the 
objects  just  mentioned;  or  did  he  only  seem  to  be  one 
of  the  magistrates,  while  in  truth  he  was  neither  magis- 
trate nor  servant  to  the  state,  but  only  a  consumer  of 
its  substance  ?  Aye,  he  did  seem  so,  he  replied ;  he  was 
nothing  but  a  consumer.  Do  you  desire,  then,  said  I, 
that  we  should  say  of  him,  that,  as  a  drone  in  a  beehive 
brings  ailment  among  the  whole  swarm,  just  so,  such  a 
person  as  this,  like  a  drone  in  his  house,  is  the  ailment 
of  a  state  ?  Quite  so,  Socrates,  he  replied.  And  has  not 
God,  Adimantus,  made  all  the  winged  drones  without 
any  sting,  and  those  that  have  feet,  some  without  stings, 
and  some  with  dreadful  stings  ?  And  do  not  those  that 
are  without  stings  continue  poor  to  old  age:  whereas 
those  that  have  stings,  are  those  that  we  called  mis- 
chievous ?  Most  true,  said  he.  It  is  plain  then,  said  I, 
that  in  a  state  where  you  would  observe  poor  people, 
there  are  doubtless  concealed  thieves,  cutpurses,  sacri- 
legious persons,  and  workers  of  all  such  evils.  Evidently 
so,  said  he.  What  then  ?  Do  not  you  find  poor  people 
in  states  that  are  placed  under  oligarchal  government  ? 
Almost  all  are  so,  said  he,  except  the  governors  them- 
selves. And  do  we  not  think,  said  I,  that  they  contain 
within  them  many  mischievous  persons  with  stings,  whom 
the  magistrates  must  restrain  by  vigilance  and  compulsory 
measures  ?  We  do  indeed  think  so,  said  he.  And  must 
we  not  say,  that  it  is  through  want  of  education,  bad 
nurture,  and  a  corrupt  constitution  of  state,  that  persons 
of  this  character  are  here  engendered  ?  Yes  we  must. 
Well  then,  is  not  the  state  oligarchally  governed  when 
under  an  oligarchy  of  this  character ;  and  is  it  not  affected 
by  all  these  evils,  and  probably  more  too  ?  It  is  nearly  so, 
said  he.  Let  us  distinguish  then  this  form  of  government 
likewise,  said  I,  which  they  call  oligarchy,  as  one  having 
its  governors  [elected]  according  to  the  valuation  of  their 
property. 


276 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


Chap.  VIII.  Next  let  us  consider  the  man  who  is 
analogous  to  this  [form  of  government],  how  he  is  formed 
and  what  is  his  character.  By  all  means,  said  he.  Is  it 
not  thus  then  chiefly  that  the  individual  man  changes  from 
the  timocratic  to  the  oligarchic  form  ?  How  ?  When  such 
an  one  has  a  son,  he,  first  of  all,  emulates  his  father,  and 
follows  his  steps;  afterward,  when  he  sees  him  suddenly 
dashed  on  the  state  [like  a  ship]  on  a  rock,  squandering 
his  property  and  ruining  himself,  either  at  the  head  of 
the  army,  or  in  some  other  high  magisterial  office,  then 
falling  into  the  law-courts,  ruined  by  public  informers, 
and  either  put  to  death,  or  exiled,  and  stripped  of  his 
honors  and  entire  property.  It  is  likely,  said  he.  Aye, 
my  friend,  and  after  seeing  and  suffering  this,  and  losing 
his  property,  he  instantly,  through  fear,  I  think,  pushes 
headlong  from  the  throne  within  his  soul,  his  ambitious, 
lofty  temper,  and  at  length,  humbled  by  poverty,  turns 
his  attention  to  gain,  lives  meanly  and  sparingly,  and  by 
hard  labor  acquires  wealth ;  do  you  not  think  that  such  a 
man  will  seat  on  that  throne  in  his  soul  a  covetous  and 
money-loving  spirit,  making  it  a  mighty  king  within  him- 
self, and  girding  it,  as  it  were,  with  tiaras,  and  brace- 
lets, and  scepters  ?  I  think  so,  said  he.  But,  as  for  the 
principles  of  reason  and  high  spirit,  having  laid  them 
both  at  his  feet  on  either  side  as  mere  slaves,  he  forbids 
the  one  to  reason  at  all,  or  at  any  rate  to  inquire  into 
aught  else,  except  by  what  means  a  smaller  amount  of 
property  can  be  made  greater;  and  the  other,  again,  to 
admire  and  honor  anything  but  riches  and  the  rich,  and 
to  receive  honor  with  any  other  view  than  the  acquisition 
of  money,  or  whatever  else  may  tend  thereto.  There  is 
no  change,  said  he,  so  sudden  and  powerful  as  that  of  an 
ambitious  to  an  avaricious  man.  Is  not  this,  then,  said 
I,  the  oligarchic  man  ?  Aye,  the  change  which  he  under- 
goes is  from  a  person  who  resembles  that  government 
from  which  oligarchy  arises.  Shall  we  consider,  now,  if 
he  does  at  all  resemble  it  ?    Let  us  consider. 

Chap.  IX.  Does  he  not,  in  the  first  place,  resemble  it 
in  valuing  money  above  all  things?  Of  course  he  does. 
And  he  does  so  surely  in  being  sparing  and  laborious, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


277 


satifying  only  his  necessary  desires,  and  not  allowing 
himself  any  other  expenses,  but  subduing  the  other  de- 
sires as  foolish.  Certainly.  And  in  being,  said  I,  a 
sordid  kind  of  man,  making  gain  of  everything,  intent 
on  hoarding, —  one,  such  as  the  multitude  extols,  will  not 
this  be  the  man  that  resembles  such  a  form  of  govern- 
ment? Aye,  I  think  so,  he  replied:  wealth  at  least  must 
be  highly  valued  by  the  state,  as  well  as  by  the  indi- 
vidual of  such  a  character.  Aye,  for  I  do  not  think,  said 
I,  that  such  a  man  has  attended  to  education.  I  do  not 
think  he  has,  said  he ;  for  he  would  not  then  have  chosen  a 
blind  guide  for  his  chorus.*  But  further  still,  consider 
this  attentively,  said  I;  must  we  not  say  that,  owing  to 
his  want  of  education,  dronish  desires  springing  in  him, 
some  of  them  beggarly,  and  some  mischievous,  forcibly 
kept  under  restraint  by  the  rest  of  his  pursuits?  Just 
so,  said  he.  Do  you  know,  then,  said  I,  where  you  will 
best  observe  their  wickedness?  Where?  said  he.  [By 
looking]  at  their  tutelage  of  orphans,  or  whatever  else 
of  this  kind  comes  in  their  way  so  as  to  give  them  much 
power  to  do  injustice.  True.  Is  not  this  then  quite  clear, 
that  in  all  other  kinds  of  contracts,  wherever  such  an 
one  gains  approbation,  by  the  mere  semblance  of  justice, 
he  restrains  the  other  wrong  desires  within  him  by  exer- 
cising a  certain  moderation,  not  from  any  persuasion  that 
it  is  not  better  to  indulge  them,  nor  from  sober  reason, 
but  from  necessity  and  fear,  because  he  trembles  for  the 
remainder  of  his  property?  Certainly,  said  he.  Aye,  by 
Zeus,  said  I,  my  friend,  most  of  them,  when  they  want 
to  spend  the  property  of  others,  display  passions  much 
akin  to  those  of  drones.  Yes,  exceedingly  so,  observed 
he.  Such  a  person  as  this,  then,  will  not  be  free  from 
internal  discord;  nor  be  integrally  one,  but  a  kind  of 
double  man;  possessing  desires,  however,  that  are  at 
variance  with  one  another,  the  better,  usually,  governing 
the  worse.  It  is  so.  On  these  accounts,  then,  such  an 
one,  methinks,   will  present  a  better  appearance  than 

*  Allusion  is  here  made  to  Plutus,  the  god  of  riches, —  who  is 
usually  represented  blind.  The  word  xop°v,  which  is  the  reading 
of  the  best  MSS.,  refers  to  the  noisy  crowd  of  desires  that  hurry 
a  man  through  life. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


many  others;  though  the  true  virtue  of  a  harmonized 
and  consistent  soul  will  wholly  escape  him.  Aye,  it 
seems  so.  And  the  sparing  man,  either  privately  or  in 
the  state,  will  be  but  a  poor  rival,  as  regards  any  victory 
or  other  struggle  for  honor;  because  either  for  reputa- 
tion's sake,  or  any  such  contests,  he  is  unwilling  to  spend 
his  property,  through  fear  of  kindling  expensive  desires, 
and  calling  them  into  alliance  or  rivalry;  and  warring, 
as  he  does,  in  oligarchic  fashion,  with  only  a  few  of  his 
resources,  he  is  in  most  cases  defeated,  though  he  still 
contrives  to  get  rich.  Quite  so,  replied  he.  Can  we 
any  longer  hesitate,  said  I,  to  rank  the  niggard  and 
the  money-maker  as  resembling  a  state  under  an  oli- 
garchy?   By  no  means,  said  he. 

Chap.  X.  Democracy,  as  it  seems,  must  next  be  con- 
sidered, how  it  arises,  and  when  once  arisen,  what  kind 
of  man  it  produces;  in  order  that  understanding  the 
nature  of  such  a  man,  we  may  at  once  bring  him  to  trial. 
Yes,  said  he ;  that  would  be  our  consistent  course.  Well 
then,  said  I,  is  not  the  change  from  oligarchy  to  democ- 
racy produced  in  some  such  way  as  this,  through  the  in- 
satiable desire  of  the  proposed  good,  vis.,  the  desire  of 
becoming  as  rich  as  possible  ?  How  ?  Inasmuch  as  its 
governors  govern  through  the  possession  of  great  wealth, 
they  will  have  no  wish,  methinks,  to  restrain  by  law  the 
profligate  portion  of  the  young  men  from  squandering 
and  wasting  their  property  at  pleasure ;  because,  by  pur- 
chasing such  persons'  effects,  and  lending  on  usury,  they 
will  not  only  be  still  more  enriched,  but  held  in  higher 
repute.  Far  more  so  than  any  other.  This,  then,  is 
already  quite  clear  in  our  state,  that  to  honor  riches,  and 
at  the  same  time  practice  temperance,  is  impossible,  since 
either  the  one  or  the  other  must  necessarily  be  neglected. 
Of  course,  that  is  quite  plain,  said  he.  While,  therefore, 
they  are  neglectful  in  oligarchies,  and  allow  the  youths 
to  indulge  in  licentiousness,  they  must  necessarily  some- 
times bring  men  to  poverty,  even  those  that  are  not 
ignoble.  Quite  so.  And  these,  I  suppose,  stand  in  our 
state  both  spurred,  and  in  armor;  some  in  debt,  others 
in  disgrace,  others  in  both,  hating  and  conspiring  against 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


279 


those  who  have  got  what  belonged  to  them,  and  against 
others  also,  for  mere  love  of  change.  Aye,  such  is  the 
case.  These  usurers,  however,  bent  on  their  own  inter- 
ests, and  apparently  imobservant  of  these,  wound  all  that 
ever  yield  to  them  by  advancing  them  money,  and  so, 
by  getting  multiplied  interest  for  the  parent  principal, 
fill  the  state  with  many  a  drone  and  pauper.  Aye,  with 
many  a  one,  he  replied.  And  even  when  such  an  evil  is 
raging  in  the  state,  said  I,  they  are  not  willing  to  ex- 
tinguish it,  not  even  by  restraining  people  from  spending 
their  property  at  pleasure,  nor  yet  in  this  way  by  making 
another  law  to  destroy  such  disorders.  What  law  ?  One 
that  shall  follow  the  other,  compelling  the  citizens  to 
ciiltivate  virtue;  for  if  they  were  bidden  to  engage  in 
voluntary  contracts  chiefly  at  their  own  hazard,  their 
usurers  would  create  less  scandal  in  the  state,  and  fewer 
also  of  the  evils  now  mentioned  would  arise  therein. 
Far  fewer,  said  he.  At  present,  however,  said  I,  it  is  by 
all  these  means  that  the  governors  in  the  state  thus  dis- 
pose of  the  governed;  and  both  as  to  themselves  and 
those  belonging  to  them,  do  they  not  render  the  youths 
luxurious  and  idle  as  respects  all  bodily  and  mental  exer- 
cises, effeminate  in  bearing  pleasure  and  pains,  and  indo- 
lent likewise  ?  What  else  ?  And  as  to  themselves,  they 
neglect  everything  but  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  and  pay 
no  more  regard  to  virtue  than  the  poor.  No,  surely. 
Having  then  been  thus  trained  up,  when  the  governors 
and  their  subjects  are  thrown  together,  either  on  a  journey 
along  the  road,  or  in  other  meetings,  either  at  public 
spectacles,  or  on  warlike  expeditions,  either  as  fellow- 
sailors  or  fellow-soldiers,  or  when  they  see  one  another 
in  real  dangers,  the  poor  in  this  case  are  by  no  means 
despised  by  the  rich ;  but  very  often  a  robust  fellow,  poor 
and  sunburnt,  whose  post  in  battle  is  by  the  side  of  a 
rich  man  bred  up  in  the  shade,  and  swollen  with  much 
unnecessary  fat,  if  he  should  see  him  panting  for  breath 
and  in  agony,  think  you  not,  he  will  consider  such  per- 
sons to  grow  rich  to  their  own  injury,  and  will  say  to 
his  fellow,  when  meeting  in  private,  that  our  rich  men 
are  good  for  nothing  ?  Of  course,  I  well  know,  said  he, 
that  they  do  so.    Well  then,  as  a  diseased  body  needs 


28o  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 

but  the  smallest  shock  from  without  to  give  it  pain,  and 
is  sometimes  thrown  into  disorder  without  any  interfer- 
ence from  without,  so  also  the  state  that  resembles  it 
will,  on  the  smallest  occasion  from  without,  either  when 
one  party  forms  an  alliance  with  an  oligarchal,  or  the 
other  with  a  democratic  state,  become  disordered,  and 
fight  with  itself,  and  also  rise  in  revolt  without  any  ex- 
ternal interference.  Yes,  certainly.  A  democracy  then, 
I  think,  arises,  when  the  poor  prevailing  over  the  rich, 
kill  some,  and  banish  others,  and  share  the  state  offices 
and  magistracies  equally  among  the  remainder;  and  for 
the  most  part  the  magistracies  therein  are  disposed  of  by 
lot.  Aye,  said  he,  this  is  the  establishment  of  a  democ- 
racy, whether  it  be  effected  through  force  of  arms,  or 
from  the  withdrawal  of  the  other  party  through  fear. 

Chap.  XI.  In  what  way  then,  said  I,  do  these  live, 
and  what  will  be  the  character  of  this  government;  for  it 
is  plain,  that  a  man  of  this  kind  will  appear  democratic  ? 
It  is  plain,  said  he.  First,  then,  are  they  not  free,  and 
is  not  the  state  full  of  freedom  of  action,  and  speech, 
and  each  one  at  liberty  to  do  what  he  pleases  ?  So  it  is 
said,  he  replied.  And  where  there  is  liberty,  every  one 
will  evidently  regulate  his  own  plan  of  life  just  as  he 
pleases  ?  Plainly  so.  Under  such  a  government  especially, 
methinks,  men  of  all  characters  will  spring  up.  Of  course. 
This,  said  I,  seems  likely  to  be  the  best  of  all  govern- 
ments; just  as  a  various-colored  robe,  embroidered  with 
flowers  of  all  kinds,  so  will  this  appear  best,  variegated 
as  it  is  with  all  sorts  of  manners.  Of  course,  said  he. 
And  perhaps  too,  said  I,  the  multitude  will  reckon  this 
the  best,  just  as  children  and  women  looking  at  em- 
broidered dresses.  Very  likely,  said  he.  Aye,  my  excel- 
lent friend,  here  is  a  state  in  which  we  may  fitly  look 
for  a  government.  How  so  ?  Because  it  comprises  all 
kinds  of  government  on  the  score  of  its  liberty;  and  it 
seems  necessary  for  one  that  desires  to  establish  a  state, 
as  we  are  now  doing,  to  come  to  any  democratic  state,  the 
form  of  which  he  likes,  as  to  a  general  political  fair,  and 
establish  that  which  he  has  chosen.  Aye,  said  he,  he 
would  probably  be  in  no  want  of  models.    Is  not  this,  said 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


I,  a  divine  and  pleasant  kind  of  life  for  the  present, —  that 
there  be  no  need  of  governing  in  this  state,  even  though 
you  be  able  to  do  so,  nor  yet  of  being  a  subject,  unless  you 
please,  nor  of  engaging  in  war  because  others  do,  nor  of 
keeping  peace  when  others  keep  it,  unless  you  desire 
peace;  nor  again,  though  there  be  a  law  that  restrains 
you  from  governing  or  administering  justice,  yet  you  no 
less  shall  govern  and  administer  justice,  if  so  disposed  ? 
It  is  likely,  said  he ;  in  this  particular  at  least.  But  what ; 
is  not  their  lenience  toward  some  of  those  who  are  con- 
demned very  polite;  and  in  such  a  government  did  you 
never  yet  see  its  lenity  toward  men  condemned  to  death 
or  banishment,  who  nevertheless  remain  there  in  open 
intercourse,  the  banished  man,  too,  returning  like  a  hero 
as  if  no  one  attended  to  or  observed  him  ?  Aye,  many, 
he  replied.  But  this  indulgence  of  the  state,  not  to 
mention  the  small  regard,  and  even  contempt  which  it 
shows  for  all  that  we  deemed  so  important  when  settling 
our  state,  as  that,  unless  a  man  had  a  most  exalted  nature, 
he  would  never  become  a  good  man,  except  he  had  from 
childhood  upward  delighted  in  noble  actions,  and  dili- 
gently followed  all  such  pursuits;  how  magnanimously 
does  it  despise  and  think  as  naught  all  these  things, 
evincing  an  utter  disregard  as  to  the  kind  of  pursuits 
from  which  a  man  comes  to  engage  in  politics,  though 
it  honors  him  if  he  only  declares  himself  well  affected 
toward  the  multitude  ?  How  very  generous,  he  rejoined. 
These  then,  said  I,  and  others  akin  to  these,  are  to  be 
found  in  democracy;  and  it  seems  to  be  a  pleasant  sort 
of  government,  both  anarchical  and  variegated,  distribu- 
ting a  certain  equality  to  all  alike,  both  equals  and 
unequals.  Aye,  you  say,  he  replied,  what  is  perfectly 
well  known. 

Chap.  XII.  Consider  then,  said  I,  what  kind  of  man 
such  an  one  is  in  private;  or  shall  we  first  consider,  as 
we  did  with  respect  to  the  government,  in  what  manner 
he  is  formed  ?  Yes,  said  he.  Is  he  not  then  formed  in 
this  manner,  namely,  from  the  parsimonious  man  who 
was  under  the  oligarchy,  as  a  son,  trained  up  under  his 
father  according  to  his  habits  ?    Of  course.    Such  an  one 


282 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


forcibly  governs  his  own  pleasures,  such  as  are  expensive, 
but  not  tending  to  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  which  are 
hence  called  unnecessary.  It  is  plain,  said  he.  That  we 
may  not  argue  in  the  dark  then,  said  I,  let  us  firet,  if 
you  please,  determine  what  desires  are  necessary,  and 
what  arc  not.  Willingly,  said  he.  May  not  such  be  justly 
called  necessary,  which  we  cannot  get  rid  of,  and  the 
gratification  of  which  does  us  service  ?  For  both  these 
kinds  our  nature  must  necessarily  seek  after ;  must  it  not  ? 
Quite  so.  This,  then,  we  may  justly  say,  is  a  necessary 
part  to  these  desires  ?  Justly.  But  what  now  ?  Such  de- 
sires as  a  man  may  relinquish,  if  he  try  to  do  so  from  his 
youth,  and  which  while  they  remain,  do  no  good,  if  we  say 
of  these  that  they  are  not  necessary,  shall  we  not  say 
right  ?  Right,  indeed.  Let  us  select  a  pattern  of  each, 
that  we  may  understand  from  example  what  they  are. 
Quite  right.  Is  not  the  desire  of  eating  necessary  so  far 
as  is  conducive  to  health  and  a  good  habit  of  body,  and 
the  desire  of  food  and  victuals  ?  I  think  so.  The  desire 
of  food,  at  least,  is  necessary  on  two  accounts,  as  being 
advantageous  in  itself,  and  because  the  want  of  it  must 
bring  life  to  an  end.  It  is.  And  the  desire  of  victuals  is 
likewise  necessary,  as  contributing  toward  a  good  habit 
of  body.  Certainly.  But  what  ?  even  such  desire  as  goes 
beyond  these  things,  or  any  other  sorts  of  meats,  and 
yet  can  be  curbed  from  youth,  and  trained  to  abstain 
from  most  things,  and  which  is  hurtful  both  to  body  and 
soul  as  regards  the  attainment  of  wisdom  and  temperance, 
may  not  that  be  rightly  called  unnecessary  ?  Most  rightly, 
indeed.  May  we  not  say  then  that  these  too  are  expen- 
sive, and  the  others  frugal,  as  they  conduce  toward  the 
actions  of  life  ?  Of  course.  We  may  speak  in  the  same 
manner,  surely,  of  venereal,  and  the  other  desires  ?  In 
the  same  manner.  And  did  we  not,  by  him  whom  we  just 
now  called  the  drone,  indicate  a  person  full  of  such  desires 
and  pleasures,  and  governed  by  those  that  are  unnecessary; 
but  one  governed  by  those  merely  necessary,  a  parsimoni- 
ous man,  and  disposed  to  an  oligarchy  ?    Without  doubt. 

Chap.  XIII.  Let  us  again  mention,  said  I,  how  the 
democratic  man  arises  out  of  the  oligarchic;  and  to  me 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO  283 

he  appears  to  arise  chiefly  thus.  How  ?  When  a  young 
man  brought  up,  as  we  now  mentioned,  without  proper 
instruction,  and  in  niggard  fashion,  comes  to  taste  the 
drones'  honey,  and  associates  with  those  fiery,  terrible 
creatures  who  can  procure  all  sorts  and  varieties  of 
pleasures,  and  from  every  quarter,  then  you  may  conceive, 
he  somehow  begins  to  change  the  oligarchic  for  the  demo- 
cratic character.  It  must  be  so,  he  observed.  Well,  then, 
just  as  the  state  was  changed  by  the  aid  of  another 
party  from  without  to  which  it  was  related,  is  not  the 
youth  90  changed  likewise,  through  the  aid  of  one  species 
of  desires  from  without,  to  others  within  him,  which  re- 
semble them  and  are  allied  thereto  ?  By  all  means.  And 
methinks,  if  any  alliance  should  come  to  counteract  the 
oligarchic  principle  within  him,  either  through  his  father 
or  other  relatives,  admonishing  and  upbraiding  him,  then 
truly  will  arise  sedition,  opposition,  and  an  internal  strug- 
gle against  himself.  Undoubtedly.  And  sometimes,  in- 
deed, I  think  the  democratic  yields  to  the  oligarchic 
principle,  and  some  of  the  desires  are  destroyed,  while 
others  retire,  because  a  certain  modesty  is  engendered  in 
the  youth's  soul,  and  he  is  again ,  restored  to  order.  This 
is  sometimes  the  case,  said  he.  And  again,  I  suppose, 
when  some  desires  retire,  others  allied  to  them  secretly 
grow  up,  which  through  neglect  of  parental  instruction, 
become  both  many  and  powerful.  This  is  usually  the 
case,  said  he.  They  draw  them  then  toward  the  same 
intimacies  as  before,  and  through  their  connections  secretly 
generate  a  multitude  ?  What  else  ?  And  in  the  end, 
I  think,  they  seize  the  citadel  of  the  youth's  soul,  be- 
cause they  find  it  empty,  as  regards  virtuous  pursuits 
and  true  reasoning, —  the  best  guardians  and  preservers  of 
the  rational  part  of  men  dear  to  the  gods.  Just  so,  said 
he.  And  then,  indeed,  false  and  arrogant  reasonings  and 
opinions  rush  up  in  their  stead,  and  take  their  place  in 
such  people.  Assuredly,  said  he.  And  does  he  not  then 
come  once  more,  and  dwell  openly  among  those  Lotoph- 
agi  ?  And  if  any  aid  come  from  intimate  friends  to 
strengthen  the  parsimonious  principle  within  him,  these 
said  arrogant  reasonings,  by  shutting  against  it  the  gates 
of  the  royal  wall   neither  permit  the  alliance  itself,  nor 


284 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


allow  the  ambassadorial  admonitions  of  individual  old 
men,  but  struggle  against  them  and  maintain  themselves 
in  power;  and  as  for  modesty,  they  call  it  stupidity,  and 
thrust  it  out  into  disgraceful  exile,  while  temperance  they 
call  unmanliness,  load  it  with  abuse,  and  then  expel  it; 
and  as  for  moderation  and  decent  expense,  they  pur- 
suade  themselves  that  they  are  nothing  else  but  rusticity 
and  illiberality,  and  banish  them  from  their  territories, 
with  many  other  unprofitable  desires.  Assuredly  they 
do.  Having  emptied  and  purified  from  all  these  desires, 
the  soul,  thus  held  by  them,  and  initiated  in  the  great 
mysteries,*  they  next  introduce  with  encomiums  and 
false  eulogies,  indolence  and  anarchy,  extravagance  and 
shamelessness,  shining  with  a  great  retinue,  and  wearing 
crowns, —  calling  insolence,  good-breeding, — anarchy,  lib- 
erty,—  luxury,  magnificence, —  and  impudence,  manliness. 
Is  it  not,  said  I,  somehow  thus,  that  a  youth,  after  being 
bred  up  with  necessary  desires  falls  away  into  the  license 
and  dissoluteness  induced  by  needless  and  unprofitable 
pleasures  ?  Yes,  plainly  so,  he  replied.  Such  an  one,  then, 
methinks,  thenceforth  passes  his  life,  spending  his  prop- 
erty, labor,  and  time  as  much  on  necessary  and  unneces- 
sary pleasures,  but  if  he  be  fortunate  and  not  unusually 
excited  by  passion,  he,  as  he  advances  in  years,  and  the 
sovereignty  of  the  passions  is  subdued,  readmits  part  of 
those  expelled,  and  does  not  deliver  himself  wholly  up  to 
mere  intruders,  but  regulates  his  pleasures  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  equality,  and  so  lives,  giving  himself  up  to  each 
incidental  desire  that  happens  to  rule  him,  till  he  is  sated, 
and  then  another,  undervaluing  none,  but  indulging  all 
alike.  Quite  so,  of  course.  And  yet  such  an  one,  said 
I,  will  not  listen  to  true  reasoning,  nor  admit  it  into  his 
stronghold, —  should  he  be  told  that  some  pleasures  are 
attached  to  honorable  and  virtuous  desires,  others  to  those 
that  are  depraved,  and  that  he  should  pursue  and  honor 
the  former,  but  chastise  and  hold  captive  the  latter, — but 
in  all   these  cases  will  dissent,  and  say  that  they  are 

*  Allusion  is  here  made  to  the  Eleusinian  mysteries,  which  after 
certain  lustrations  and  sacrifices,  were  successively  communicated  to 
those  in  course  of  initiation, —  first,  the  lesser  mysteries,  and  six 
months  subsequently,  the  greater. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


285 


all  alike,  and  to  be  held  in  equal  honor.  Assuredly, 
said  he,  one  thus  affected  does  this.  Well,  then,  said  I, 
thus  does  he  daily  live,  gratifying  every  incidental  desire, 
sometimes  getting  drunk  to  the  sound  of  the  flute,  at 
others  temperately  drinking  water,  at  others,  again  ex- 
ercising gymnastics;  sometimes  indolent  and  wholly  care- 
less; then  again  applying,  as  it  were,  to  philosophy, 
often  too  acting  the  politician,  saying  and  doing  by  skips 
and  jumps  whatever  comes  first ;  and  if  he  would  imitate 
any  of  the  military  tribe,  thither  he  is  carried;  if  the 
mercantile,  then  again  thither;  nor  is  his  life  regulated 
by  any  plan  or  law,  but,  deeming  this  particular  life 
pleasant,  and  free,  and  blessed,  he  follows  it  through- 
out. You  have  most  fully  described,  said  he,  the  life  of 
the  man  who  places  all  laws  on  a  level.  I  at  least  am 
of  opinion,  said  I,  that  he  is  multiform,  and  filled  with 
different  habits;  like  the  state,  too,  he  is  handsome  and 
of  varied  complexion,  a  man  whose  life  many  men  and 
women  would  emulate,  because  he  contains  within  him- 
self numerous  patterns  both  of  forms  of  government  and 
moral  habits.  He  does,  said  he.  What  then  ?  Have  we 
then  so  described  and  arranged  such  an  one  on  the 
principles  of  democracy,  as  that  he  may  be  truly  called 
one  of  democratic  character?  We  will  allow  that  it  has, 
said  he. 

Chap.  XIV.  It  still  remains,  however,  that  we  discuss, 
said  I,  that  most  excellent  form  of  government,  and  that 
most  excellent  man,  tyranny  and  the  tyrant.  Surely,  said 
he.  Come  then,  my  dear  fellow;  what  is  the  manner  in 
which  tyranny  arises  ?  for  it  is  almost  plain,  that  it  is  a 
change  from  democracy.  Plain.  Does  not  tyranny  arise 
in  the  same  manner  from  democracy,  as  democracy  does 
from  oligarchy?  How,  as  respects  the  good  then,  which 
oligarchy  proposed  to  itself,  and  according  to  which  it 
was  constituted ;  was  it  not  with  a  view  of  becoming  ex- 
tremely rich  ?  Yes.  An  insatiable  desire  then  for  riches, 
and  a  neglect  of  all  besides,  through  attention  to  the  ac- 
quisition of  wealth,  destroys  it.  True,  said  he.  And 
with  reference  to  what  democracy  denominates  good,  an 
insatiable  thirst  for  it  destroys  it  likewise.    But  what 


286 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


say  you,  it  denominates  as  good  ?  Liberty,  said  I :  fof 
this,  yon  are  told  is  best  found  in  a  state  under  dem- 
ocratic rule,  and  hence  any  one  naturally  free  would 
choose  to  dwell  in  this  alone.  This  word  liberty,  said 
he,  is  vastly  much  talked  about.  Well  then,  observed 
I,  as  I  was  just  going  to  say,  does  not  the  insatiable 
desire  for  this,  and  the  neglect  of  other  things,  change 
even  the  form  of  government,  and  prepare  it  to  need 
a  tyrant  ?  How  ?  said  he.  When  a  state,  said  I,  is 
under  democratic  rule,  thirsts  after  liberty,  and  happens 
to  have  bad  cupbearers  appointed  it,  and  gets  immod- 
erately drunk  with  an  unmixed  draught  thereof,  it 
punishes  even  the  governors,  unless  they  be  quite  tame- 
spirited,  and  allow  them  excessive  liberty,  by  accusing 
them  of  being  corrupt  and  oligarchical.  They  do  so, 
said  he.  But  such  as  obey  the  magistrates,  said  I,  it 
abuses  as  willing  and  good-for-nothing  slaves;  both  pub- 
licly and  in  private  they  commending  and  honoring 
magistrates  who  resemble  subjects,  and  subjects  who 
resemble  magistrates:  must  it  not  happen  in  such 
a  state,  that  we  must  necessarily  arrive  at  the  acme 
of  liberty  ?  Of  course.  And  must  it  not  descend,  too, 
my  friend,  said  I,  into  private  families,  and  at  last 
reach  even  the  brutes  ?  How,  said  he,  can  we  assert 
aught  like  this  ?  For  instance,  said  I,  when  a  father 
gets  used  to  become  like  his  child,  and  fears  his  sons, 
and  the  son  [in  like  manner]  his  father,  and  has  neither 
respect  nor  fear  of  his  parents,  in  order,  forsooth,  that 
he  may  be  free;  and  thus  a  mere  resident  is  placed 
on  a  level  with  a  citizen,  and  a  resident  with  a  stranger, 
and  so  likewise  a  foreigner.  Just  so,  said  he.  Aye, 
these  indeed  happen,  said  I,  and  other  similar  little 
things  also:  and  in  such  cases  a  teacher  fears  and  flat- 
ters his  scholars,  and  the  scholars  despise  their  teachers, 
and  so  also  their  tutors;  and  on  the  whole  the  youths 
resemble  those  more  advanced  in  years,  and  rival  them 
both  in  speech  and  action :  while  the  old  men  sit  down 
with  the  young,  and  imitate  them  in  their  love  of  mer- 
riment and  pleasantry,  for  fear  of  appearing  morose 
and  despotic.  Quite  so,  of  course,  replied  he.  But  as 
to  this  extreme  liberty  of  the  multitude,  said  I,  what 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


287 


a  heig-ht  it  attains  in  a  state  like  this,  where  pur- 
chased slaves,  male  or  female,  are  no  less  free  than 
their  purchasers,  and  how  much  equality  and  liberty 
wives  enjoy  with  their  husbands,  and  husbands  with 
their  wives, —  this  we  have  almost  forgotten  to  mention. 
Are  we  not  then  to  say,  according  to  ^schylus,  he  ob- 
served, whatever  now  comes  into  our  mouth  ?  By 
all  means,  said  I;  and  accordingly  I  thus  speak:  with 
reference  even  to  brutes,  such  as  are  under  the  care 
of  men,  how  much  more  free  they  are  in  such  a  state; 
he  who  has  no  experience  thereof  will  not  easily  be- 
lieve, for  according  to  the  proverb,  even  dogs  resemble 
their  mistresses;  and  horses  and  asses  are  used  to  run 
about  at  large,  surlily  driving  against  whomsoever  they 
meet,  unless  they  get  out  of  their  way;  and  many 
other  such-like  things  happen,  that  indicate  an  abun- 
dance of  liberty.  You  are  just  telling  me  my  dream, 
said  he,  for  this  has  often  happened  to  me  when  go- 
ing into  the  country.  But  do  you  observe,  said  I,  when 
all  these  things  are  collected  together  in  a  whole,  that 
they  make  the  soul  of  the  citizens  so  sensitive,  that 
if  they  were  any  how  to  be  brought  into  slavery,  they 
would  be  indignant  and  not  endure  it;  for  in  the  end, 
you  know,  they  regard  laws  neither  written  nor  un- 
written, and  hence  no  one  will  by  any  means  become 
their  master  ?    I  know  it  well,  said  he. 

Chap.  XV.  This  then,  said  I,  my  friend,  I  suppose,  is 
that  government  so  beautiful  and  youthful,  whence 
tyranny  springs.  Youthful,  indeed,  he  replied ;  but  what 
then  ?  The  same  malady,  said  I,  that  existed  in  an 
oligarchy,  destroys  this  form  likewise;  rising  also  to  a 
higher  pitch  of  power,  and  enslaving  the  democracy  by  its 
very  licentiousness ;  for,  in  fact,  the  doing  of  anything  to 
excess  usually  causes  great  change  in  an  opposite  direc- 
tion: and  so  it  is  in  the  seasons,  as  in  vegetable  and 
animal  bodies,  and  so  also  not  least  of  all  in  forms  of 
government.  Probably  so,  said  he.  Aye,  for  excessive 
liberty  seems  only  to  degenerate  into  excessive  slavery, 
either  in  private  individuals  or  states.  It  is  probable, 
indeed.    Probably  then,  said  I,  tyranny  is  established  out 


288 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


of  no  other  form  than  democracy ;  out  of  the  highest  degree 
of  liberty,  methinks,  the  greatest  and  fiercest  slavery. 
Yes,  it  is  reasonable,  said  he.  This,  however,  methinks, 
said  I,  was  not  what  you  asked:  but  what  is  that  same 
disease  which  arises  in  an  oligarchy  and  a  democracy, 
and  reduces  each  to  slavery  ?  Your  remark  is  true,  re- 
plied he.  I  meant,  said  I,  that  there  was  a  race  of  idle 
and  profuse  men,  the  bravest  of  whom  were  the  leaders, 
and  the  more  cowardly  their  followers,  whom,  indeed,  we 
compared  to  drones ;  some  to  those  with  stings,  others  to 
those  without  stings.  Rightly,  too,  said  he.  These  two 
now,  said  I,  when  they  spring  up  in  a  government,  disturb 
it,  just  like  phlegm  and  bile  in  a  natural  body, —  and 
against  these  it  is  the  duty  of  a  wise  physician  and  law- 
giver of  a  state,  no  less  than  of  a  wise  bee-master,  to 
take  much  fore-caution, —  first,  that  they  never  gain  admit- 
tance; and  if  they  should  enter,  that  they  be  as  soon  as 
possible  cut  off,  with  their  cells  as  well.  Yes,  by  Zeus, 
said  he;  altogether  so. 

Chap.  XVI.  Let  us  thus  then  conceive  the  matter,  said 
I,  that  we  may  more  destinctly  see  what  we  want.  How  ? 
Let  us  ideally  divide  a  democratic  state  into  three  parts,  as 
it  in  fact  is ;  for  some  such  classification  is  natural  to  it, 
owing  to  its  liberty,  no  less  than  to  an  oligarchy.  It  is  so. 
Yet  it  is  much  more  fierce  at  least  in  this  than  in  the 
former.  How  ?  In  an  oligarchy,  from  not  being  held  in 
honor,  but  excluded  from  the  magisterial  office,  it  is 
unexercised  and  gains  no  strength ;  but  in  a  democracy  it 
is ;  with  a  few  exceptions,  the  presiding  party,  the  fiercest 
of  them,  ever  talking  and  agitating,  while  the  rest  bustle 
about  at  the  law-courts,  and  cannot  endure  any  one  else 
to  speak  differently  from  itself ;  and  thus  all  things,  with 
only  a  few  exceptions,  under  such  a  government,  are 
managed  by  a  party.  Very  much  the  case,  said  he.  Some 
other  party,  then,  is  always  separated  from  the  multitude. 
Which  ?  While  the  general  body  are  engaged  in  the 
pursuit  of  gain,  such  as  are  naturally  the  most  temperate 
generally  become  the  wealthiest.  Very  probably.  And 
hence  is  it,  methinks,  that  the  greatest  quantity  of  honey, 
and  what  comes  with  the  greatest  ease,  is  pressed  out  of 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


289 


these  by  the  drones.  Yes,  for  how,  said  he,  can  any  one 
press  it  from  those  who  have  but  little  ?  Such  wealthy 
people,  I  think,  are  called  the  pasture  of  the  drones. 
Nearly  so,  replied  he.  And  the  people  will  be  a  sort  of 
third  species,  such  as  mind  their  own  affairs,  without 
meddling  with  others,  who  have  little  property,  but  are 
yet  the  most  numerous,  and  most  prevailing  in  a  democ- 
racy, whenever  it  is  densely  populated.  It  is  so ;  but  this 
it  will  not  often  consent  to  do  without  getting  some  share 
of  the  honey.  This  class,  of  course,  always  obtains  a 
share,  said  I,  as  far  as  their  leaders  are  able,  by  robbing 
those  that  have  property,  and  giving  it  to  the  people,  in 
order  that  they  may  eat  most  themselves.  Aye,  said  he, 
that  is  the  way  in  which  these  become  sharers.  These, 
then,  are  obliged  to  defend  themselves.  Those  thus  de- 
spoiled are  compelled  to  defend  themselves,  saying  and 
doing  all  they  can  among  the  people.  Of  course.  And 
though  they  have  no  inclination  to  introduce  a  change  of 
government,  they  are  charged  with  forming  plots  and 
plans  against  the  common  people,  and  being  oligarchically 
disposed.  What  next  ?  After  seeing  that  the  people,  not 
willingly,  but  through  ignorance  and  the  impositions  of 
these  slanderers,  attempt  to  injure  them,  do  they  not 
then,  indeed,  even  against  their  wills,  become  truly 
oligarchic  ?  though  not  spontaneously,  for  this  very  mis- 
chief is  generated  by  the  drone  that  stings  them.  Quite 
so.  And  so  they  lay  informations,  make  lawsuits,  and 
have  contests  one  with  another.  Very  much  so.  And  are 
not  the  people  always  used  to  place  some  one  in  special 
presidency  over  themselves,  and  to  cherish  him,  and 
promote  him  to  great  power  ?  They  are.  And  this,  said 
I,  is  plain,  that  whenever  a  tyrant  rises,  it  is  from  the 
fact  of  thus  presiding,  and  nothing  else,  that  he  flourishes. 
This  is  very  clear.  How,  then,  begins  the  change  from  a 
president  into  a  tyrant  ?  is  it  not  clearly  when  the  presi- 
dent begins  to  do  the  same  as  is  told  in  the  fable,  about 
the  temple  of  the  Lycean  Zeus,  to  whom  the  wolf  was 
dedicated  in  Arcadia  ?  What  is  that  ?  said  he.  That  who- 
ever tasted  human  entrails  mixed  with  those  of  other 
offerings,  must  necessarily  become  a  wolf:  have  you  not 
heard  the  story  ?  I  have.  Well,  then,  supposing  him  to 
19 


290 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


be  thus  the  president  of  the  people,  and  having  to  deal 
with  an  extremely  compliant  multitude,  he  should  not 
refrain  from  shedding  even  kindred  blood,  but  by  unjust 
charges,  as  usual,  should  bring  men  into  the  law-courts 
and  murder  them,  as  if  he  set  no  value  on  human  life,  and, 
tasting  with  unholy  mouth  and  tongue  even  the  blood  of 
relations,  should  banish  men  and  slay  them,  proposing  the 
abolition  of  debts  and  fresh  division  of  lands,  must  not 
such  an  one  of  necessity,  and  by  destiny,  be  either  de- 
stroyed by  his  enemies,  or  else  act  the  tyrant,  and  from  a 
man,  become  a  wolf  ?  Of  great  necessity,  said  he.  This 
then,  is  he,  said  I,  the  same  who  rises  in  sedition  against 
those  who  have  property.  Yes.  And  when  he  has  been 
banished  and  returns  against  the  will  of  his  adversaries, 
he  comes  back,  of  course,  an  accomplished  tyrant.  It  is 
plain.  And  if  they  cannot  expel  him,  or  put  him  to  death 
on  a  state  accusation,  then  they  conspire  to  cut  him  off 
privately  by  a  violent  death.  It  usually  so  happens,  he 
observed.  And  besides  this,  all  who  have  advanced  to 
this  station  invent  this  much-vaunted  tyrannical  demand, 
asking  the  people  for  certain  body-guards,  that  the 
people's  aid  may  be  secured  them.  Of  this,  said  he,  they 
take  special  care.  And  methinks  they  grant  them  this 
through  fear  of  his  safety,  though  secure  as  to  their  own. 
Quite  so.  And  when  a  man  observes  this,  who  has  prop- 
erty, and  who,  besides  that,  is  further  charged  with  hating 
the  people,  he  then,  my  friend,  according  to  the  answer  of 
the  oracle  to  Croesus, 

.    .    .    To  pebble-bedded  Hermus  flies, 
Nor  waits  the  brand  of  cowardice ;   .   .  , 

because  he  would  not,  said  he,  be  a  second  time  in  fear. 
But  surely,  said  I,  he  at  least,  methinks,  that  is  caught,  is 
put  to  death.  Of  necessity  so.  It  is  plain,  then,  that  this 
president  of  our  state  does  not  like  a  noble  person,  nobly 
lie,  but,  after  hurling  down  many  others,  sits  in  his 
chair  of  office,  a  consummate  tyrant  of  the  state,  and 
not  a  president.  Of  course  he  is  likely  to  be  so,  re- 
joined he. 

Chap.  XVII.  Shall  we  then  examine  the  happiness 
both  of  the  man  and  the  state,  in  which  such  a  mortal 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


291 


as  this  is  engendered  ?  Let  us  do  so  by  all  means,  said 
he.  Does  he  not  then,  said  I,  in  the  first  days,  and  for 
a  brief  season,  smile  and  salute  every  one  he  meets,  and 
asserting-  himself  to  be  no  tyrant,  and  promise  many 
things,  both  in  public  and  private;  and  liberate  men 
from  debts,  and  distribute  land  both  to  the  public  and 
those  about  him,  and  affect  to  be  mild  and  liberal  toward 
all  ?  He  must,  replied  he.  But,  methinks,  when  he  be- 
comes reconciled  to  some  of  his  foreign  enemies,  and 
has  destroyed  others,  and  there  is  quiet  respecting  these, 
he  first  of  all  is  ever  exciting  wars,  that  the  people  may 
be  in  need  of  a  leader.  Aye,  that  is  likely.  Is  it  not 
also  then,  that,  being  rendered  poor  by  contributing  to 
the  public  treasury,  they  may  be  compelled  to  be  anxious 
for  daily  sustenance,  and  so  less  readily  conspire  against 
him  ?  Plainly  so.  And  methinks,  if  he  suspects  that  any 
of  a  free  spirit  will  not  allow  him  to  govern,  in  order 
that  he  may  have  some  pretext  for  destroying  them,  he  ex- 
poses them  to  the  enemy ;  for  all  these  reasons  a  tyrant 
must  necessarily  be  always  raising  war.  Necessarily  so. 
And,  while  he  is  doing  these  things,  he  will  necessarily  be- 
come more  hateful  to  the  citizens.  Of  course.  And,  there- 
fore, some  of  those  who  have  been  promoted  along  with 
him  and  are  in  power,  use  great  plainness  of  speech, 
toward  him  and  among  themselves,  finding  fault  with 
what  is  done,  such  at  least,  as  are  of  a  more  manly 
spirit.  Aye,  probably  so.  The  tyrant,  therefore,  if  he 
means  to  govern,  must  cut  off  all  these  till  he  leave  no 
one,  either  friend  or  foe,  worth  anything.  It  is  plain. 
He  must  carefully  notice  them,  who  is  courageous,  who 
is  magnanimous,  who  wise,  who  rich;  and  in  this  man- 
ner is  he  happy  that,  willing  or  unwilling,  he  is  under 
a  necessity  of  being  an  enemy  to  all  like  these;  and  to 
form  plots  against  them,  till  he  has  purged  the  state. 
A  fine  purging  indeed!  said  he.  Yes,  said  I,  the  reverse 
of  what  the  physicians  do  with  regard  to  animal  bodies; 
for  they  take  away  the  worst  and  leave  the  best ;  but  he 
does  the  contrary.  Because  it  seems,  said  he,  if  he  is  to 
govern  he  must  necessarily  do  so. 

Chap.  XVIII.    By  a  blessed  necessity,  then  truly,  is  he 


292 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


bound,  said  I ;  which  compels  him  either  to  live  with  a 
depraved  multitude,  hated  by  them  too,  or  not  live  at 
all.  In  such  necessity  he  is,  he  replied.  And  the  more 
he  is  hated  by  the  citizens  whilst  he  does  these  things, 
will  he  not  so  much  the  more  require  a  greater  number 
of  guards,  and  those  more  faithful  ?  It  is  impossible  he 
should  not.  Who  then  are  the  faithful,  and  whence  shall 
he  procure  them  ?  Many,  said  he,  will  come  flying  to 
him  of  their  own  accord,  if  he  give  them  pay.  By  the 
dog,  said  I,  you  seem  again  to  be  talking  of  certain 
drones,  both  foreign  and  multiform.  Aye,  you  think 
right,  replied  he.  But  those  of  the  state  itself,  would  he 
not  desire  to  have  them  also  as  guards  ?  How  ?  After 
he  has  taken  away  the  slaves  from  the  citizens,  would  he 
not  give  them  their  liberty,  and  make  of  them  guards 
about  his  person  ?  By  all  means,  said  he ;  for  these  are 
the  most  faithful  to  him.  What  a  blessed  possession  of 
the  tyrants,  said  I,  is  this  which  you  mention,  if  he  em- 
ploy such  friends  and  faithful  men,  after  having  destroyed 
the  former  ones  !  But  at  any  rate,  said  he,  such  he 
surely  does  ernploy.  And  then  his  companions,  said  I, 
admire  him,  and  the  young  citizens  flock  around  him: 
but  those  that  are  respectable  men  both  hate  and  fly 
from  him.  Of  course  they  would.  It  is  not  without 
reason,  then,  said  I,  that  tragedy  is  generally  thought  a 
wise  thing,  and  that  Euripides  is  thought  to  excel  in  it. 
Why  ?  Because  he  uttered  this,  the  result  of  deep  re- 
flection, that  tyrants  are  wise,  by  intercourse  with  the 
wise;  and  he  plainly  said,  those  were  wise  with  whom 
they  hold  converse.  And  he  commends  tyranny  too,  said 
he,  as  some  divine  thing,  and  says  a  great  deal  else  about 
it,  as  do  the  other  poets.  Those  composers  then  of 
tragedy,  said  I,  as  they  are  wise,  will  forgive  both  our- 
selves and  others  who  establish  governments  analogous 
to  our  own,  for  not  admitting  them  into  our  republic,  as 
being  panegyrists  of  tyranny.  Methinks,  said  he,  such 
of  them,  at  least,  as  are  well  mannered,  will  forgive  us. 
But  they  will  go  about  through  other  states,  methinks, 
drawing  together  the  crowds,  and  put  to  sale  their  fine, 
magnificent,  and  persuasive  words,  and  so  draw  over  gov- 
ernments to  tyrannies  and  democracies.     Just  so.  And 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


■293 


do  they  not  further  receive  rewards  and  are  specially 
honored,  first  by  tyrants,  as  is  natural,  and  next  by  a 
democracy;  but  the  higher  they  advance  in  the  forms  of 
government,  the  more  does  honor  forsake  them,  disabled 
as  it  were  by  an  asthma  from  pursuing  its  progress. 
Entirely  so. 

Chap.  XIX.  Thus  far,  said  I,  have  we  digressed:  and 
now  let  us  go  back  and  talk  about  the  army  of  the  tyrant, 
beautiful  as  it  is  numerous,  multiform,  and  ever  the  same, — 
how  it  is  to  be  maintained.  It  is  plain,  said  he,  that  what- 
ever sacred  things  there  be  in  the  state,  these  they  will 
despoil,  and  make  the  sale-proceeds  therefrom  to  be  such 
from  time  to  time  as  to  cause  the  commons  to  pay  lighter 
taxes.  But  when  these  fail,  what  will  they  do  ?  It  is 
plain,  said  he,  that  he  and  his  boon-companions,  and  asso- 
ciates, male  and  female,  will  be  maintained  out  of  his 
paternal  inheritance.  I  understand,  said  I:  the  party 
that  made  the  tyrant  is  to  maintain  him  and  his  com- 
panions. Surely  it  must  be  so,  replied  he.  How,  say 
you  ?  replied  I :  if  the  people  were  to  be  enraged,  and 
say,  that  it  is  not  just  for  a  son  arrived  at  mature  age 
to  be  maintained  by  the  father,  but  on  the  contrary,  the 
father  by  the  son,  and  that  he  did  not  beget  and  bring 
him  up  for  this  purpose,  to  be  himself  a  slave  to  his 
slaves  after  they  have  grown  up,  and  to  maintain  him  and 
his  slaves  with  the  rest  of  the  riotous  crew,  but  rather  that 
under  his  auspices  he  might  be  liberated  from  the  rich 
in  the  state  [who  are  also  called  the  good  and  worthy] : 
and  now  he  orders  him  and  his  companions  to  leave  the 
state  as  a  father  drives  from  home  his  son  and  his  rackety 
boon-fellows.  By  Zeus,  then,  the  people,  said  he,  such  as 
they  are,  will  know  what  sort  of  a  creature  they  have  be- 
gotten, embraced,  and  nurtured,  and  that  being  themselves 
the  weaker  party,  they  are  still  trying  to  drive  out  the 
stronger.  How  say  you,  replied  I ;  will  the  tyrant  dare  to 
offer  violence  to  his  father  and  actually  strike  him  if  he 
will  not  yield  ?  Yes,  said  he,  for  he  has  stripped  him  of 
his  armor.  The  tyrant,  said  I,  you  call  a  parricide  and 
a  hard-hearted  nourisher  of  old  age;  and  this,  as  it 
seems,  would  be  an  acknowledged  tyranny;  and,  as  the 


294 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


saying  is,  the  common  people,  flying  from  the  smoke  of 
slavery  among  freemen,  have  fallen  into  the  slavish  fire 
of  despotism,  and  instead  of  excessive  and  unreasonable 
liberty,  they  embrace  the  most  rigorous  and  bitterest 
captivity  of  actual  slaves.  Aye,  this  is  very  much  the 
case,  rejoined  he.  What  then,  said  I,  may  it  not  be 
concluded  with  due  consideration,  that  we  have  shown 
in  sufficient  detail  how  tyranny  arises  out  of  democracy, 
and  its  nature  also,  when  it  does  arise  ?  Quite  suffi- 
ciently, of  course,  replied  he.  ' 


BOOK  IX. 


ARGUMENT. 

In  the  NINTH  BOOK  the  discussion  of  tyranny  is  concluded  with  a  view  of 
its  origin  and  nature  in  the  individual  man,  who,  when  thus  affected, 
is  g^ven  up  to  all  kinds  of  disordered  passions  that  effectually  exclude 
him  from  all  chance  of  happiness.  Hence  is  it,  that,  as  good  and 
healthy  monarchical  government  is  pre-eminently  conducive  to  the 
highest  happiness  of  the  citizens,  so  also  tyranny  is  unfailingly  pro- 
ductive of  the  most  intense  and  general  misery.  This  is  proved  also 
from  an  analysis  of  the  mental  faculties,  and  a  pretty  full  account  is 
here  given  of  the  desires,  pleasures,  and  indulgences  by  which  they 
are  affected,  and  which  must  be  kept  in  constant  subjection  by  the 
dominance  of  reason. 

Chapter.  I.  We  have  yet,  said  I,  to  consider  the  tyran- 
nical man  himself,  how  he  arises  out  of  the  democratic, 
and,  when  he  does  arise,  what  is  his  nature,  and  what 
kind  of  life  he  leads,  whether  wretched  or  happy.  Yes, 
we  have,  said  he.  Know  you,  said  I,  what  I  still  want  ? 
What  ?  We  do  not  seem  to  have  sufficiently  distinguished 
as  regards  the  desires;  what  is  their  nature  and  amount; 
and  how  many;  and  while  there  is  any  defect  in  this,  the 
inquiry  we  make  will  not  be  very  clear.  Is  it  not  good 
time  for  that  yet  ?  I  wish  to  know  about  them ;  for  it  is 
this.  Of  pleasures  and  desires  that  are  not  necessary, 
some  seem  to  me  contrary  to  law,  which  indeed  seem 
engendered  in  all  men :  though  owing  to  the  correction  of 
the  laws,  and  of  improved  desires  aided  by  reason,  they 
either  forsake  some  men  altogether,  or  are  less  numerous 
and  feeble,  while  in  others  they  are  more  powerful  and 
more  numerous.  Will  you  inform  me  what  these  are  ?  said 
he.  Such,  said  I,  as  are  excited  in  sleep,  when  the  rest 
of  the  soul  —  which  is  rational,  mild,  and  its  governing 
principle,  is  asleep,  and  when  that  part  which  is  savage 
and  rude,  being  sated  with  food  and  drink,  frisks  about, 
drives  away  sleep,  and  seeks  to  go  and  accomplish  its 

(295) 


296 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


practices;  in  such  an  one,  you  know,  it  dares  to  do  every- 
thing, because  it  is  loosed  and  disengaged  from  all  modesty 
and  prudence :  for  if  it  pleases,  it  scruples  not  at  the  em- 
braces, even  of  a  mother,  or  any  one  else,  whether  gods, 
men,  or  beasts ;  nor  to  commit  murder,  nor  abstain  from 
any  sort  of  meat,  and  in  one  word,  it  is  wanting  neither 
in  folly  nor  shamelessness.  You  speak  most  truly,  replied 
he.  But  when  a  man  is  in  good  health,  methinks,  and 
lives  temperately,  and  goes  to  sleep,  after  exciting  his 
reason,  and  feasting  it  with  noble  reasonings  and  investi- 
gations, having  thus  attained  to  an  internal  harmony,  and 
given  up  the  appetites  neither  to  want  nor  repletion,  that 
they  may  be  at  rest,  and  not  disturb  that  part  which  is  best, 
either  by  joy  or  grief,  but  suffer  it  by  itself  alone  without 
interruption  to  inquire  and  long  to  apprehend  what  it 
knows  not,  either  something  of  what  has  existed,  or  now 
exists,  or  will  exist  hereafter;  and  so  also,  having  soothed 
the  spirited  part  of  the  soul,  and  not  allowed  it  to  be 
hurried  into  transports  of  anger,  or  to  fall  asleep  with 
agitated  passion ;  but  after  having  quieted  these  two  parts 
of  the  soul,  and  roused  to  action  that  third  part  in  which 
wisdom  dwells,  he  will  thus  take  his  rest;  you  know,  that 
by  such  an  one  the  truth  is  best  apprehended,  and  the 
visions  of  his  dreams  are  then  least  of  all  portrayed  con- 
trary to  the  law.  I  am  quite  of  this  opinion,  said  he.  We 
have  digressed  indeed  a  little  too  far  in  talking  of  these 
things ;  but  what  we  want  to  be  known  is  this,  that  in  every 
one  resides  a  certain  species  of  desires  that  are  terrible, 
savage,  and  irregular,  even  in  some  that  we  deem  ever  so 
moderate :  and  this  indeed  becomes  manifest  in  sleep. 
Now  consider,  if  I  seem  to  be  speaking  to  the  purpose, 
and  whether  you  agree  with  me.    Aye,  indeed,  I  do. 

Chap.  II.  As  for  the  people's  man,  then,  recollect  how 
we  described  him,  as  being  brought  up  somehow  from 
infancy  under  a  parsimonious  father,  who  valued  ava- 
ricious desires  only;  and  despised  all  such  as  were  unnec- 
essary, arising  only  out  of  a  love  of  amusement  and 
finery.  Was  he  not  ?  Yes.  But  getting  acquainted  with 
the  more  refined,  who  are  full  of  the  desires  just  men- 
tioned, running  into  all  sorts  of  insolence,  and  imbibing 


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297 


their  manners  through  detestation  of  his  father's  parsi- 
mony; and  yet  having  a  better  natural  temper  than  his 
corrupters,  and  being  drawn  opposite  ways,  he  at  length 
settles  down  into  a  mode  of  life  equidistant  from  either, 
and  so  in  his  opinion,  participating  moderately  of  each, 
leads  a  life  neither  illiberal  nor  lawless,  after  having 
thus  become  a  democrat  instead  of  an  oligarchist.  Yes, 
this,  said  he,  was  and  is  our  opinion  of  such  an  one. 
Suppose  now  again,  that,  when  such  an  one  has  become 
old,  he  has  a  young  son  educated  according  to  his  own 
habits.  I  suppose  it.  And  suppose,  too,  that  the  same 
happens  to  him  as  to  his  father;  that  he  is  drawn  into 
all  lawlessness,  which  his  seducers  call  all  freedom;  and 
that  his  father  and  his  domestics  are  aiding  those  inter- 
mediate desires;  and  that  others  also  lend  their  assistance 
(when  these  clever  conjurers  and  tyrant-makers  have  no 
hopes  of  otherwise  keeping  youth  in  their  power),  and 
so  contrive  to  excite  in  him  a  certain  love  which  is  to 
preside  over  the  passive  desires,  which  distribute  what 
may  be  at  hand  to  all  the  rest,  a  certain  large-winged 
drone ;  or  what  else  think  you,  is  that  kind  of  love  ? 
For  my  part,  said  he,  I  think,  it  is  no  other  than  this. 
Well,  when  the  rest  of  the  desires  buzz  about  him,  full 
of  their  odors  and  perfumes,  and  crowns  and  wines,  and 
the  dissolute  pleasures  belonging  to  such  associations, 
and  at  last  by  their  increase  and  nurture,  add  to  the  drone 
a  sting  of  desire,  then  truly  he  is  sentineled  by  madness 
as  a  life  guard,  and  this  president  of  the  soul  becomes 
frenzied ;  and  even  should  he  find  in  himself  any  opinions 
or  desires  which  are  deemed  good  and  modest,  he  kills 
them  and  pushes  them  from  him,  till  he  has  ridded  him- 
self of  temperance  and  has  become  brimful  of  madness. 
You  perfectly  describe,  said  he,  the  formation  of  a 
tyrannical  man.  Is  it  not  for  some  such  reason  as  this, 
said  I,  that  love  has  of  old  been  said  to  be  a  tyrant  ? 
It  seems  so,  replied  he.  Well,  my  friend,  said  I,  and  is 
not  a  drunken  man  likewise  somewhat  of  a  tyrannical 
spirit  ?  He  is  indeed.  And  besides  that,  he  that  is  mad 
and  disturbed  in  his  mind,  undertakes  and  hopes  to  be 
able  to  govern  not  only  men,  but  the  gods  as  well. 
Entirely  so,   said  he.     The   tyrannical  character  then, 


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happy  man!  becomes  so  in  full  perfection,  when  either 
by  temper  or  pursuits,  or  both,  he  becomes  drunken  and 
given  up  to  love  and  melancholy.     Perfectly  so,  indeed. 

Chap.  III.  Such  an  one,  it  seems,  then,  is  thus  engen- 
dered, but  how  does  he  pass  his  life  ?  Just  as  they  say 
in  their  games,  replied  he ;  *  this  you  shall  tell  me  too.  * 
I  will  tell  you  then,  said  I ;  for  I  think,  that  in  the  next 
place,  they  have  feastings  and  revelings  and  banquetings 
and  mistresses,  and  all  such  things  as  may  be  expected 
among  those  with  whom  dwells  the  tyrant  love,  and 
governing  all  in  the  soul.  Necessarily  so,  said  he.  Will 
there  not  then,  each  day  and  night,  blossom  forth  numer- 
ous fierce  desires,  eagerly  in  want  of  many  things  ? 
Many  indeed.  And  if  they  get  any  supplies  [of  their 
wishes],  these  are  soon  spent  ?  Of  course.  And  after  this 
there  are  borrowings  and  forfeitures  of  property  ?  Of 
course.  And  when  everything  fails  them,  must  it  not 
follow,  that  while  the  numerous  and  powerful  desires 
nestled  in  the  mind,  will  on  the  one  hand  raise  a  clamor, 
the  men,  on  the  other  hand,  who  are  driven  and  goaded 
by  the  rest  of  the  passions,  but  especially  by  love  itself, 
which  commands  all  the  others  as  its  life  guards,  will 
rage  with  frenzy,  and  seek  after  people's  property,  to 
see  if  they  can  plunder  it  either  by  fraud  or  violence  ? 
Quite  so,  said  he.  Of  necessity,  then,  they  must  either 
plunder  from  all  quarters,  or  else  be  hampered  with  great 
pain  and  anguish.  Necessarily  so.  And  as  in  such  a 
man  his  new  pleasures  are  greater  than  those  he  had 
before,  and  depreciate  the  value  of  the  others,  will  he  not 
similarly  deem  it  right  for  himself,  however  young,  to 
have  more  than  his  father  and  mother,  and  to  take  away 
from  them,  when  he  has  spent  his  own  portion,  applying 
to  his  own  use  what  belongs  to  his  parents  ?  Of  course 
he  will,  replied  he.  And  if  they  will  not  give  it  up  to 
him,  will  he  not  at  first  try  to  pilfer  or  defraud  his  par- 
ents ?  By  all  means.  And  should  he  be  unable  to  do  this, 
he  will  next  use  rapine  and  violence  ?  I  think  so,  replied 
he.  But  supposing,  my  fine  fellow,  that  the  old  man  and 
woman  fall  out  and  fight,  will  he  not  be  very  cautious 
and  wary  of  doing  what  is  tyrannical  ?    I,  for  my  part, 


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299 


said  he,  am  not  quite  sure  about  the  safety  of  such  a 
person's  parents.  But,  by  Zeus,  Adimantus,  think  you, 
that  for  the  sake  of  a  newly  beloved  and  unnecessary 
mistress,  such  a  person  would  abandon  his  long  loved  and 
closely  connected  mother;  or  for  the  sake  of  a  youth  newly 
loved  and  with  whom  he  has  no  ties,  give  up  to  stripes 
his  withered  but  time-honored  father,  and  the  most  ancient 
of  all  his  friends,  suffering  them  to  be  the  slaves  of  these 
others,  by  bringing  them  into  the  same  house  ?  Yes,  by 
Zeus,  I  do,  said  he.  It  seems,  indeed,  said  I,  a  vastly 
blessed  thing  to  be  the  father  of  a  tyrannical  son!  Not  at 
all  so,  said  he.  But  what,  when  the  father's  and  mother's 
riches  are  beginning  to  fail  such  an  one,  and  when  the  great 
swarm  of  pleasures  has  been  already  collected  within  him, 
will  he  not  be  the  first  to  scale  the  wall  of  some  house,  or 
strip  some  one  of  his  coat  late  at  night,  and  after  that 
rifle  some  temple  ?  And  in  all  these  acts,  as  respects 
the  opinions  which  he  formerly  held  from  boyhood,  and 
which  guided  his  decisions  concerning  good  and  evil,  the 
passions,  that  are  newly  loosed  from  slavery  and  placed 
as  the  body-guards  of  Love,  will  prevail  therewith;  and 
these  indeed  had  only  just  been  loosed  from  their  dreamy 
sleep,  when  he  was  himself  still  under  the  law  and 
governed  by  his  father,  as  under  a  democracy:  yet 
afterward,  when  tyrannized  over  by  love,  such  as  he 
rarely  was  when  in  his  dreams,  he  will  ever  be  when 
awake,  nor  will  he  abstain  from  slaughter,  however 
horrid,  or  food,  or  any  deed  whatever:  but  that  tyrant 
love  within  him,  living  without  restraint  of  law  or  gov- 
ernment, as  if  it  were  sole  monarch,  will  lead  on  the 
man  it  possesses,  as  it  would  a  state,  to  every  act  of 
madness,  whereby  he  can  support  himself  and  the  mob 
of  passions  about  him,  which  partly  entering  from  with- 
out, through  evil  company,  and  partly  through  the 
manners  of  the  man  and  his  associates,  have  been 
unchained  and  set  at  liberty:  now  is  not  this  the  life  of 
such  an  one  ?  It  is  this  truly,  said  he.  And  if,  said  I, 
there  be,  only  a  few  such  in  the  state,  and  the  rest  of 
the  people  are  sober,  they  go  out  and  serve  as  guards 
to  other  tyrants,  or  assist  them  for  hire  in  case  of  war: 
but  remain  at  home  during  peace  and  quiet,  giving  rise 


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in  the  state  to  a  great  many  minor  evils.  What  mean 
you  ?  Such  as  these :  they  steal,  break  open  houses,  cut 
purses,  strip  people  of  their  clothes,  rifle  temples,  make 
people  slaves,  and,  where  they  can  speak,  sometimes 
turn  false  informers,  give  false  testimony,  and  take 
bribes.  These,  then,  you  call  minor  mischiefs,  said  he,  if 
there  be  but  a  few  such  persons.  What  is  small,  said 
I,  is  small  in  comparison  to  the  great;  and  all  these 
things  with  regard  to  the  tyrant,  when  compared  with 
the  wickedness  and  misery  of  the  state,  do  not,  as  the 
saying  is,  come  near  the  mark;  for  when  the  state  has 
many  such,  and  others  for  their  companions,  and  when 
they  perceive  their  own  number,  then  these  are  the  per- 
sons who,  led  by  the  people's  folly,  elevate  to  the  tyranny 
the  man  among  them  who  has  within  his  soul  most  of 
the  tyrant,  and  in  the  greatest  strength.  Probably  so, 
indeed,  said  he;  for  he  will  be  most  suited  for  a  tyrant. 
Of  course,  if  they  voluntarily  submit  to  him:  but  if  the 
state  will  not  allow  him  to  use  the  violence  toward 
them,  with  which  he  formerly  treated  his  father  and 
mother,  so  he  will  now  again,  if  he  can,  chastise  his 
country  by  bringing  in  his  youthful  associates,  and 
enslaving  under  them,  as  the  Cretans  say,  his  once  dear 
motherland  and  fatherland:  and  this  will  of  course  be 
the  issue  of  such  a  man's  desire.  Entirely  so,  said  he. 
Do  not  these  then  behave  thus  in  private  life,  said  I; 
even  before  becoming  rulers;  first  with  the  company 
they  keep,  either  associating  with  their  own  flatterers 
and  those  who  are  ready  to  supply  their  every  want;  or 
if  they  ask  one  for  anything,  falling  down  as  suppliants, 
and  deigning  to  assume  the  disguise  of  friends;  but 
after  they  have  gained  their  own  purposes,  acting  as  foes  ? 
Quite  so.  Throughout  life  then  they  live  as  real  friends 
to  no  one  whatever,  but  always  either  as  masters  or  slaves 
to  another;  because  for  liberty  and  true  friendship  the 
tyrant's  nature  has  no  relish  whatever.  Quite  so.  May 
we  not  rightly  call  these  men  faithless  ?  Of  course. 
And  as  unjust,  moreover,  as  they  possibly  can  be,  if 
indeed  we,  in  what  we  said  before  were  rightly  agreed 
as  to  the  nature  of  justice  ?  Aye,  we  were  quite  right, 
said  he.    Let  us  then  give  a  summary  account,  said  1 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


301 


of  this  worst  man  of  ours;  he  is  the  same  kind  of  per- 
son, awake  perhaps,  whom  we  just  described  as  asleep. 
Entirely  so.  And  does  not  that  man  become  such,  who 
with  a  tyrannical  nature  holds  the  sovereign  sway,  and 
the  longer  he  lives  in  tyrant-life  becomes  so  more  and 
more  ?  Necessarily  so,  replied  Glaucon,  taking  up  the 
discourse. 

Chap.  IV.  And  will  not  the  man,  said  I,  who  appears 
the  most  wicked,  appear  likewise  the  most  wretched ;  and 
will  not  he  who  holds  the  tyranny  longest  and  exercises 
it  most,  be  really  such  in  the  greatest  measure  and  for 
the  longest  time  ?  but  many  as  are  men,  so  many  are 
their  minds.  Of  necessity,  said  he,  these  things  must 
be  so.  And  would  not  the  tyrant  man,  said  I,  as  closely 
resemble  a  state  under  tyranny,  as  the  democratic  man 
resembles  the  state  under  democracy,  and  so  likewise  as 
respects  the  others  ?  Of  course.  As  state  then  is  to 
state  with  regard  to  virtue  and  happiness,  so  surely  will 
man  be  to  man  likewise  ?  Of  course.  What  then  is  the 
state  governed  by  a  tyrant  as  compared  with  one  under 
a  kingly  government,  such  as  we  first  described  ?  The 
exact  contrary,  said  he ;  for  the  one  is  best  and  the  other 
the  worst.  I  will  not  ask,  said  I,  which  you  mean,  for 
that  is  plain;  but  do  you  judge  is  it  thus  or  otherwise, 
that  you  judge  of  their  happiness  and  misery  ?  and  let  us 
not  be  struck  with  admiration  when  considering  the 
tyrant  himself,  or  the  few  about  him ;  but  let  us,  as  we 
ought,  enter  into  the  whole  state,  and  declare  our  opinion, 
after  going  through  and  viewing  every  part.  You  pro- 
pose what  is  right,  said  he :  and  it  is  clear  to  all  that  no 
state  is  more  wretched  than  one  under  tyranny,  and  none 
more  happy  than  that  under  regal  power.  Well,  then,  said 
I,  in  proposing  these  same  things  with  respect  to  individual 
men,  should  I  rightly  propose,  if  I  accounted  that  man  a 
suitable  judge  of  them,  who  can  by  intellectual  power 
penetrate  into  and  inspect  a  man's  disposition,  and  is  not 
as  a  child  looking  at  exteriors,  astounded  by  the  pomp, 
which  tyrants  exhibit  to  those  without,  but  has  the 
power  of  looking  properly  through  him  ?  If  then  I 
thought  that  we  should  all  listen  to  the  man,  who  from 


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having  dwelt  with  him  in  the  same  house,  and  been 
joined  in  his  family  transactions  is  able  to  judge  how 
he  behaves  to  each  of  his  domestics,  [in  which  most 
especially  a  man  appears  stripped  of  his  actor's  finery], 
and  so  also  in  public  dangers;  and  if  when  he  has  ob- 
served all  this,  I  were  to  bid  him  declare  how  the  tyrant 
stands,  as  regards  happiness  and  misery,  in  comparison 
with  others.  You  would  be  quite  right  in  proposing  this, 
observed  he.  Are  you  willing  then,  said  I,  that  we  should 
set  up  to  be  of  the  number  of  those  who  are  able  to 
judge  and  who  have  already  fallen  in  with  such  charac- 
ters, so  that  we  may  have  some  one  to  answer  our  ques- 
tions ?    By  all  means. 

Chap.  V.  Come  then,  said  I,  thus  consider  it:  call  to 
mind  the  mutual  resemblance  of  the  state  and  individual 
man ;  and  thus,  considering  each  by  turns,  describe  to  us 
the  passions  of  each.  What  passions  ?  said  he.  To  begin 
first,  said  I,  with  the  state ;  do  you  call  the  one  under 
tyranny,  free  or  enslaved  ?  Enslaved,  said  he,  in  the 
greatest  degree  possible.  And  moreover,  you  see  in  it 
some  who  are  masters  and  freemen  ?  I  see  some  indeed, 
said  he,  but  exceedingly  few:  but  the  greatest  and  best 
part  therein  generally  is  shamefully  and  wretchedly 
enslaved.  If  then,  said  I,  the  individual  man  resembles 
the  state,  will  he  not  necessarily  be  placed  under  like 
circumstances,  and  his  soul  be  filled  with  slavery  and 
illiberality,  and  those  parts  of  it,  too,  be  enslaved  which 
were  the  most  noble,  and  that  small  part  of  it,  too,  assume 
the  mastery,  which  is  the  most  wicked  and  insane  of  all  ? 
Quite  so,  said  he.  "What  then,  will  you  say  that  such  a 
soul  is  slavish  or  free  ?  Slavish  perhaps,  I  say.  But  is 
not  the  state  that  is  slavish,  and  governed  by  tyranny, 
least  of  all  able  to  do  what  it  likes  ?  Aye,  quite  so. 
And  speaking  of  a  soul  generally,  will  it  not,  when  gov- 
erned by  tyranny,  least  of  all  do  what  it  likes,  but  being 
constantly  hurried  by  some  stinging  passion,  be  full  of 
tumult  and  inconstancy  ?  Of  course  it  must  be  so.  But 
will  the  state  governed  by  tyranny  be  necessarily  rich  or 
poor  ?  Poor.  And  must  a  soul  under  a  tyranny  then  be 
ever  penurious  and  insatiable  ?    Just  so,  said   he.  But 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO  303 

what, — must  not  such  a  state  and  such  an  individual  be 
necessarily  full  of  fear  ?  It  must  be  so.  As  for  lamenta- 
tions, and  groans,  and  weepings,  and  torments,  think  you 
that  you  would  find  more  in  any  other  kind  of  state  ?  By 
no  means.  And  in  a  man,  think  you  that  such  things  exist 
in  any  one  to  a  greater  extent  than  in  this  tyrannical 
one  who  is  maddened  by  his  desires  and  lusts  ?  How 
can  they  ?  said  he.  It  is  with  reference,  I  suppose,  then 
to  all  these,  and  other  stich-like  things,  that  you  have 
deemed  this  the  most  wretched  of  all  states  ?  Was  I  not 
right  then  in  doing  so  ?  said  he.  Certainly,  said  I.  But 
what  say  you  again  as  respects  the  tyrannical  man,  with 
regard  to  these  same  things  ?  That  he  is  by  far,  said 
he,  the  most  wretched  of  all  in  the  world.  This,  replied 
I,  you  are  not  quite  correct  in  saying.  How  ?  said  he. 
He  is  not  as  yet,  methinks,  said  I,  as  unhappy  as  he  can 
be.  But  who  is  so  ?  The  following  person  probably  you 
will  deem  even  yet  more  miserable  than  the  other. 
Which  ?  That  man,  said,  I,  who  being  naturally  tyran- 
nical, remains  not  in  private  life,  but  is  unfortunate 
enough  to  be  induced  by  his  destiny  to  become  a  tyrant. 
From  what  has  been  formerly  observed,  said  he,  I  pre- 
sume that  what  you  say  is  true.  Yes,  said  I ;  but  we 
ought  not  merely  to  conjecture  about  matters  so  impor- 
tant as  these,  but  to  sift  them  to  the  bottom,  in  the  way 
we  are  now  about  to  do;  for  most  momentous  is  the 
inquiry  about  a  good  life  and  a  bad  one.  Quite  right, 
said  he.  Consider,  then,  whether  there  be  anything  in 
what  I  say;  for,  in  considering  this  question,  it  is  my 
opinion  that  we  ought  to  perceive  it  from  what  follows. 
From  what  ?  From  every  individual  private  man,  among 
such  as  are  rich,  and  possess  many  slaves ;  for  these  have 
at  least  this  resemblance  to  tyrants,  that  they  rule  over 
many, —  the  difference  being  in  the  multitude  of  the  latter. 
Aye,  there  is  some  difference.  Are  you  sure  then  that 
these  live  securely,  without  dread  of  their  domestics  ? 
Aye,  for  what  should  they  fear  ?  Nothing,  said  I ;  but 
do  you  understand  the  reason  ?  Yes ;  because  the  whole 
state  assists  each  particular  individual.  You  say  right, 
replied  I :  but  what,  if  one  of  the  gods  were  to  take  a 
man  who  had  fifty  slaves  or  upward  out  of  the  state, 


304 


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both  himself,  his  wife  and  children,  and  set  them  down 
in  a  desert  with  the  rest  of  his  property,  and  his  domes- 
tics, where  no  freemen  would  be  likely  to  render  him 
aid, — what  kind  of  fear,  think  you,  he  would  entertain 
about  himself,  his  children,  and  his  wife,  of  being 
destroyed  by  the  domestics  ?  The  greatest  possible, 
methinks,  replied  he.  Would  he  not  be  obliged  to  flatter 
some  of  his  very  slaves  and  make  them  many  promises, 
and  set  them  at  liberty  without  need,  and  so  appear  to 
be  himself  the  flatterer  of  servants  ?  He  must  of 
course  be  compelled  to  do  so,  said  he,  or  else  be 
destroyed.  But  what,  said  I;  if  the  god  were  to  place 
round  him  many  other  neighbors  who  could  not  endure 
for  any  one  to  pretend  to  lord  it  over  another,  and 
wherever  they  find  such  an  one,  punished  him  with 
extreme  rigor  ?  Methinks,  he  would  be  still  more  dis- 
tressed, said  he,  when  thus  beset  by  a  whole  host  of 
foes.  And  is  not  the  tyrant  bound  in  such  a  prison- 
house,  if  he  be  of  such  disposition  as  we  have  described, — 
full  of  many  and  all  kinds  of  aversions  and  desires;  and 
whilst  he  is  most  eager  in  his  soul,  he  alone  of  all  in  the 
state  is  not  allowed  to  go  abroad,  or  to  see  what  others 
love  to  see,  but  huddles  himself  at  home,  and  lives  mostly 
as  a  woman,  envying  the  other  citizens,  whenever  they 
travel  abroad,  and  see  what  is  good  ?  Wholly  so,  of 
course,  replied  he. 

Chap.  VI.  Well,  then,  through  such  evils  as  these, 
does  not  the  man  reap  still  more,  who,  being  ill-gov- 
erned within  himself  [a  person  whom  you  just  now 
deemed  to  be  the  most  of  all  wretched],  remains  not  in 
private  station,  but  through  some  fortune  or  other  is 
obliged  to  act  the  tyrant,  and  though  unable  to  control 
himself,  attempts  to  govern  others,  as  if  with  a  body 
diseased,  and  unable  to  support  itself,  one  were  com- 
pelled to  live  not  in  a  state  of  privacy,  but  in  wrestling 
and  fighting  ag-ainst  other  bodies  ?  What  you  say,  Soc- 
rates, replied  he,  is  altogether  most  probable  and  true. 
Is  not  this  condition,  then,  dear  Glaucon,  said  I,  alto- 
gether wretched;  and  does  not  the  tyrant  live  more 
wretchedly  even  than  the  man  that  you  conceive  to  live 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO  305 

the  most  wretchedly  of  all  ?  Quite  so,  replied  he.  True 
is  it,  then,  though  one  may  fancy  otherwise,  that  the 
really  tyrannical  man  is  really  a  slave  to  the  greatest 
flatteries  and  slaveries,  and  a  flatterer  of  the  most 
abandoned  men ;  and  without  ever  in  the  smallest  degree 
satisfying  his  desires,  he  is  of  all  men  most  in  want  of 
most  things,  and  poor,  indeed,  if  one  could  but  look  into 
his  whole  soul,  and  full  of  fear  throughout  life,  filled 
with  terrors  and  griefs, —  if,  indeed,  he  resembles  the  con- 
stitution of  the  state  he  rules:  and  he  does  resemble  it, 
does  he  not  ?    Extremely,  said  he. 

And  in  addition  to  this,  shall  we  not  ascribe  also  to 
the  tyrant-man  what  we  formerly  mentioned  that  he  must 
necessarily  be,  and  by  governing  become  increasingly 
envious,  faithless,  unjust,  unfriendly,  impious,  the  enter- 
tainer and  encourager  of  all  vice;  and  from  all  these 
causes  be  specially  happy  himself,  and  render  all  about 
him  happy  likewise  ?  No  one  of  understanding  will,  said 
he,  contradict  you.  Come,  then,  said  I,  as  a  judge  who 
is  examining  the  whole  case;  so  tell  me,  who,  in  your 
opinion,  is  first  in  happiness,  and  who  second,  and  the 
rest  in  order,  five  in  all;  namely,  the  regal,  the  timo- 
cratic,  the  oligarchal,  the  democratic,  and  the  tyrannic. 
Easy,  indeed,  is  this  decision,  said  he:  for  as  they  came 
before  us,  I  have  judged  of  them  as  public  actors,  by 
their  virtue  and  vice,  happiness  and  its  contrary.  Shall 
we  then  hire  ourselves  a  herald  ?  said  I ;  or  shall  I  my- 
self declare,  that  the  son  of  Ariston  has  judged  the  best 
and  justest  man  to  be  the  happiest  [and  that  this  is  the 
man  who  is  fittest  to  be  as  king,  and  as  king,  too,  over 
himself] ;  and  that  the  worst  and  the  most  unjust  is  the 
most  wretched ;  and  that  he  is  the  most  tyrannical,  who  in 
the  greatest  degree  tyrannizes  over  himself  and  the  state  ? 
So  let  it  be  pronounced  by  you,  said  he.  Must  I,  then, 
state  in  addition,  said  I,  whether  they  be  unknown  to  be 
such  or  not,  to  all  men,  and  the  gods  too  ?  Pray  do  so, 
said  he. 

Chap.  VII.    Well,  then,  said  I;  this  would  seem  to  be 
one  of  our  proofs;  and  this,  if  you  please,  must  be  the 
second.    Which  is  this  ?    Since  the  soul,  said  I,  of  every 
20 


3o6 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


individual  is  divided  into  three  parts,  just  as  we  divided 
our  state,  it  will,  in  my  opinion,  admit  of  a  second  illus- 
tration. What  is  that  ?  It  is  this :  of  the  parts  of  the 
soul  there  appear  to  me  to  be  three  pleasures,  one 
peculiar  to  each,  with  desires  and  governments  in  like 
manner.  How  say  you  ?  replied  he.  One  part  we  say, 
by  which  a  man  learns,  another  by  which  he  is  roused 
to  spirit;  but  as  for  the  third,  it  is  so  multiform,  that 
we  cannot  express  it  by  any  one  word  peculiar  to  itself, 
but  have  named  it  from  the  greatest  and  most  impetuous 
part  thereof;  calling  it  the  desiderative,  from  the  im- 
petuosity of  the  desires  for  eating  and  drinking,  and  sexual 
pleasures,  and  such-like  enjoyments,  and  calling  it  money- 
loving  also,  as  it  is  through  wealth  most  especially  that 
such  desires  are  accomplished.  And  we  said  rightly, 
replied  he.  Well,  then,  if  we  are  to  call  it  the  pleasure 
and  delight  in  gain,  shall  we  not  do  best  to  reduce  it 
under  one  head  in  our  discourse,  so  that  we  may  have 
something  quite  clear  to  ourselves,  when  we  are  speak- 
ing of  this  part  of  the  soul  ?  And  in  calling  it  money- 
loving,  and  profit-loving,  shall  we  not  be  giving  it  its 
proper  term?  Yes,  I  think  so,  said  he.  But  what;  do 
not  we  say,  that  the  spirited  principle  ought  to  be  wholly 
impelled  to  superiority,  victory,  and  applause  ?  Especially 
so.  If,  then,  we  term  it  the  contentious  and  ambitious, 
shall  we  not  accurately  express  it  ?  Most  accurately. 
But  [as  regards  that  part  of  the  soul]  by  which  we  gain 
knowledge,  it  is  clear  to  every  one,  that  it  is  wholly 
intent  on  always  knowing  the  truth,  wherever  it  may 
be;  and  as  to  wealth  and  glory,  least  of  all  does  it  care 
for  these.  Just  so.  By  terming  it,  then,  the  love  of 
learning,  and  philosophy,  we  shall  be  defining  it  correctly  ? 
Of  course.  And  in  these  people's  souls,  said  I,  one 
governs  in  some,  and  the  other  in  others,  as  it  happens  ? 
Just  so,  said  he.  This  was  why  we  said,  then,  that  of 
men  also  there  were  three  original  species ;  the  philosophic, 
the  ambitious,  and  the  avaricious  ?  Surely  so.  And  like- 
wise three  species  of  pleasures,  corresponding  to  each  of 
the  others  ?  Yes,  certainly.  You  know,  then,  said  I, 
that  if  you  were  to  ask  these  three  men,  by  turns,  which 
of  these  lives  is  the  pleasantest,  each  would  most  com- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


mend  his  own ;  and  the  money-maker  would  say,  that, 
compared  with  the  pleasures  of  acquirinj>-  wealth,  those 
arising  from  honor,  or  learning,  are  of  no  value,  unless 
they  bring  in  money  ?  True,  said  he.  And  what  says 
the  ambitious  man  ?  said  I :  does  not  he  deem  the  pleas- 
ure arising  from  money-making  a  sort  of  burden;  and 
again,  that  which  arises  from  learning,  unless  it  bring 
him  honor,  mere  smoke  and  trifling  ?  So  it  is,  said  he. 
And  as  for  the  philosopher,  said  I,  we  may  suppose  that 
he  deems  all  other  pleasures  in  comparison  with  that  of 
knowing  the  nature  of  truth  as  a  mere  nothing,  and  that, 
while  constantly  employed  in  learning  something  of  this 
kind,  he  is  not  far  off  from  pleasure,  and  calls  them  really 
necessary,  because  he  wanted  none  else,  except  when  com- 
pelled by  necessity.    This,  said  he,  you  should  well  know. 

Chap.  VIIL  When  these  several  lives  then,  said  I, 
and  the  pleasures  peculiar  to  each,  are  at  variance  with 
each  other,  not  with  reference  to  a  mode  of  life,  worthier 
or  more  base,  worse  or  better,  but  merely  with  reference 
to  living  more  pleasantly  or  painfully ;  how  can  we  know 
which  of  the  two  speaks  most  in  accordance  with  truth  ? 
I  am  not,  said  he,  quite  able  to  tell.  But  consider  it 
thus:  by  what  criterion  ought  we  to  judge  about  matters 
rightly  presented  for  our  judgment;  is  it  not  by  experi- 
ence, prudence,  and  reason,  or  can  we  find  any  better 
criterion  than  these  ?  How  can  we  ?  said  he.  Consider 
now;  of  the  three  men,  who  is  the  most  experienced  in 
all  the  pleasures  ?  Think  you  that  the  money-loving 
man,  by  learning  the  real  nature  of  truth,  gains  more 
experience  in  the  pleasure  arising  from  knowledge,  than 
the  philosopher  has  in  that  resulting  from  the  acquisition 
of  wealth  ?  There  is  a  great  difference,  said  he :  for  the 
philosopher  must  necessarily  from  early  childhood  taste 
the  other  pleasures;  but  what  it  is  to  know  real  beings, 
and  how  sweet  is  its  pleasure,  the  money-getting  man 
need  not  taste,  or  become  experienced  therein;  nay, 
indeed,  it  is  no  easy  matter,  even  should  he  earnestly 
try  to  accomplish  it.  The  philosopher  then,  said  I,  far 
surpasses  the  money-getting  man,  at  least  in  experience 
of  both  the  pleasures.    Far  indeed.    But  what  as  regards 


3o8 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


the  ambitious  man,  has  he  any  more  experience  in  the 
pleasures  arising  from  honor,  than  the  philosopher  in  that 
which  arises  from  the  exercise  of  intellect  ?  Honor,  in- 
deed, said  he,  attends  them  all,  if  each  obtains  his  object: 
for  the  rich  man  is  honored  by  many,  and  so  is  the  brave, 
and  the  wise:  so  all  of  them  have  experience,  as  to  the 
kind  of  pleasure  attending  honor,  but  in  the  contem- 
plation  of  being  itself,  as  to  the  pleasure  which  it  gives, 
it  is  impossible  for  any  other  than  the  philosopher  to 
have  tasted  it.  On  the  ground  of  experience  then,  said 
I,  he  of  all  men  is  the  best  judge.  By  far.  And  surely, 
including  prudence  also,  he  alone  has  experience.  Of 
course.  But  the  organ,  by  which  these  pleasures  must 
be  judged,  is  not  the  organ  of  the  money-getter,  nor  of 
the  ambitious  man,  but  of  the  philosopher.  Which  is 
that  ?  We  said  somewhere,  that  they  must  be  judged  of 
by  reason,  did  we  not  ?  Yes.  But  reasoning  is  chiefly 
the  organ  of  the  philosopher  ?  Of  course  it  is.  If  then 
the  things  to  be  determined  could  be  best  determined  by 
riches  and  gain,  what  the  money-getting  man  commended, 
or  despised,  would  necessarily  be  most  agreeable  to  truth  ? 
Quite  so.  And  if  by  honor,  victory,  and  courage,  must 
it  not  be  as  the  ambitious  and  contentious  man  deter- 
mined ?  It  is  evident.  But  since  it  is  by  experience, 
prudence,  and  reason,  it  follows  of  course,  said  he,  that 
what  is  praised  by  the  philosopher  and  the  lover  of 
reason  must  be  the  most  true.  Of  the  three  pleasures, 
then,  that  which  belongs  to  that  part  of  the  soul  by 
which  we  learn  most  is  the  most  pleasant,  and  that  man 
in  whom  this  part  of  us  holds  the  chief  sway  lives  the 
pleasantest  life.  How  can  it  be  doubted  ?  said  he :  for 
the  wise  man,  who  has  the  supreme  right  to  commend, 
commends  his  own  life.  But  which  life ;  said  I,  does  our 
judge  pronounce  the  second,  and  which  the  second  pleas- 
ure ?  Plainly,  that  of  the  warlike  and  ambitious  man ; 
for  this  is  nearer  to  his  own  than  that  of  the  money- 
getter.  And  that  of  the  covetous,  as  it  appears,  is  last 
of  all  ?    Of  course,  said  he. 

Chap.  IX.  These  things  then,  will  succeed  one  another 
in  order;  and  the  just  man  will  twice  prevail  over  the 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


309 


unjust:  the  third  victory  now,  as  at  the  Olympic  games, 
is  sacred  to  Olympian  Zeus,  the  Savior;  for  you  must 
consider,  that,  with  the  exception  of  that  of  the  wise 
man,  the  pleasure  of  the  others  is  by  no  means  genuine 
nor  pure,  but  somehow  shadowed  over,  as  I  think  I  have 
myself  heard  from  one  of  the  wise  men:  and  this  truly 
would  be  the  greatest  and  most  complete  downfall.  Ex- 
tremely so;  but  how  mean  you  ?  I  will  thus  trace  it  out, 
said  I,  whilst  in  searching  you  answer  my  questions. 
Ask  then,  said  he.  Tell  me  then,  said  I,  do  we  not  say 
that  pain  is  contrary  to  pleasure  ?  Quite  so.  And  do  we 
not  say  likewise,  that  to  feel  neither  pleasure  nor  pain 
is  something  ?  We  say  it  is.  And  that  the  state  between 
both  of  these  is  a  certain  tranquillity  of  the  soul  with 
reference  to  them ;  do  you  not  so  understand  it  ?  Just  so, 
he  replied.  Do  you  not  remember,  said  I,  the  speeches 
of  the  diseased,  which  they  utter  when  they  are  sick  ? 
What  are  they  ?  That  nothing  is  sweeter  than  health, 
but  that  it  escaped  their  notice  before  they  became  sick, 
that  it  was  the  sweetest.  I  remember  it,  said  he.  And 
are  you  not  wont  to  hear  those  who  are  under  acute  pain 
say,  that  there  is  nothing  sweeter  than  a  cessation  from 
pain  ?  I  do  hear  them.  And  you  may  perceive  the  same 
thing  in  men,  I  think,  when  they  are  in  other  but  similar 
circumstances,  where,  if  in  pain,  they  extol  a  freedom  from 
pain  and  the  tranquillity  of  such  a  state,  as  being  most 
sweet,  though  they  do  not  extol  that  of  feeling  joy. 
Because  perhaps  the  latter,  said  he,  becomes  at  that  time 
sweet  and  desirable,  namely,  tranquillity.  And  when  any 
one  ceases,  said  I,  from  feeling  joy,  the  tranquillity  of 
pleasure  will  be  painful.  Perhaps  so,  said  he.  This 
tranquillity,  then,  which  we  just  now  said  was  between 
the  two,  will  at  times  become  both  pain  and  pleasure. 
It  seems  so.  What,  is  it  possible,  that  what  is  neither 
of  the  two  should  become  both  ?  I  do  not  think  so.  And 
moreover,  when  what  is  pleasant  or  painful  is  in  the  soul, 
both  sensations  are  a  certain  excitement ;  are  they  not  ? 
Yes.  But  did  not  that  which  is  neither  painful  nor 
pleasant  appear  just  now  to  be  tranquillity,  and  between 
these  two  ?  It  did  appear  so.  How  is  it  right  then,  to 
deem  it  sweet  not  to  be  in  pain,  or  painful  not  to  enjoy 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


pleasure  ?  It  is  by  no  means  right.  In  these  cases,  then, 
tranquillity  is  not  really  so,  said  I ;  but  it  appears  pleasant 
by  comparison  with  the  painful,  and  painful  compared 
with  the  pleasant;  and  there  is  nothing  genuine  in  these 
appearances  as  regards  the  truth  of  pleasure,  but  a  certain 
magical  delusion.  Aye,  just  as  our  argument  proves,  he 
replied.  Consider  the  pleasures  then,  said  I,  which  do 
not  arise  from  the  cessation  of  pain,  so  as  not  frequently 
during  our  discussion  to  hold  the  frequent  notion  that 
these  two  naturally  thus  subsist;  viz.,  that  pleasure  is 
the  cessation  of  pain,  and  pain  the  cessation  of  pleasure. 
How,  said  he,  and  to  what  pleasures  do  you  allude  ? 
There  are  many  others,  said  I,  particularly  if  you  wish 
to  consider  the  pleasures  that  arise  from  smell;  for  these, 
without  any  preceding  pain,  are  on  a  sudden  immensely 
great,  and,  when  they  cease,  they  leave  no  pain  behind 
them.  Most  true,  said  he.  Let  us  not  then  be  per- 
suaded that  pure  pleasure  is  the  removal  of  pain,  or  pain 
the  removal  of  pleasure.  No,  we  will  not.  But  yet,  said 
I,  those  which  extend  through  the  body  to  the  soul,  and 
which  are  called  pleasures,  the  greatest  part  of  them 
almost,  and  the  most  considerable,  are  of  this  species, 
certain  cessation  from  pain  ?  They  are  so.  And  are  not 
the  preconceptions  of  pleasure  and  pain,  which  arise  in 
the  mind  from  their  expectation,  of  the  same  kind  ?  Of 
the  same. 

Chap.  X.  Do  you  know  then,  said  I,  of  what  class  they 
are  and  what  they  chiefly  resemble  ?  What  ?  said  he. 
Do  you  conceive,  said  I,  there  is  any  such  thing  in  nature 
as  this,  the  above,  the  below,  and  the  middle  ?  I  do. 
Do  you  think  then  that  anyone,  when  brought  from  the 
below  to  the  middle,  imagines  any  thing  else  than  that 
he  is  brought  to  the  above ;  and  when  he  stands  in  the 
middle  and  looks  down  whence  he  was  brought,  will  he 
imagine  that  he  is  anywhere  else  than  above,  whilst  yet 
he  has  not  seen  the  true  above  ?  By  Zeus,  said  he,  I 
do  not  think  that  such  an  one  will  imagine  otherwise. 
But  if  he  should  again,  said  I,  be  carried  to  the  below, 
he  would  conjecture  he  was  carried  to  the  below,  and 
conjecture  rightly  ?    He  would  of  course.    Would  he  not 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


be  thus  affected  from  his  want  of  experience  in  what  is 
really  above,  and  in  the  middle,  and  below  ?  Plainly  so. 
Would  you  wonder  then,  that  while  men  are  inexperienced 
in  the  truth,  they  have  unsound  opinions  in  many  other 
things,  and  that  as  to  pleasvire  and  pain,  and  what  is 
between  these,  they  are  likewise  affected  in  the  same 
manner;  so  that,  even  when  they  are  brought  to  what  is 
painful,  they  conceive  truly,  and  are  really  pained;  but 
when  from  pain  they  are  brought  to  the  middle,  they 
strongly  imagine  that  they  have  arrived  at  the  highest 
pitch  of  pleasure,  in  the  same  manner  as  those,  who 
along  with  the  black  color  look  at  the  gray,  through  inex- 
perience of  the  white,  and  so  are  deceived  ?  and  just  so 
those  who  consider  pain  along  with  the  freedom  from 
pain,  are  deceived  through  inexperience  of  pleasure.  By 
Zeus,  said  he,  I  should  not  wonder,  but  much  rather  if 
it  were  not  so.  Consider  the  matter  thus,  said  I ;  are  not 
hunger  and  thirst,  and  such-like  things,  certain  empti- 
nesses in  the  bodily  habit  ?  Of  course.  And  are  not  igno- 
rance and  folly  an  emptiness  in  the  habit  of  the  soul  ? 
Quite  so.  And  is  not  the  one  filled  when  it  receives  food, 
and  the  other  when  it  acquires  intelligence  ?  Surely.  But 
which  is  the  more  real  repletion,  that  of  the  less,  or  the 
more  truly  real  being  ?  It  is  plain,  that  of  the  more  real. 
Which  species,  then,  do  you  think,  participate  most  of  a 
purer  essence ;  those  which  partake  of  bread,  and  drink, 
and  meat,  and  all  such  sort  of  nourishment ;  or  that  species 
which  partakes  of  true  opinion  and  science,  and  intel- 
ligence, and,  in  short,  of  all  virtue  ? — And  judge  of  it 
thus:  That  which  is  connected  with  what  is  always  sim- 
ilar, and  immortal,  and  trtie,  and  is  so  of  itself,  and 
arises  in  what  is  of  the  same  character,  think  you  that 
it  has  more  of  the  reality  of  being,  than  what  is  con- 
nected to  what  is  never  similar  and  mortal,  and  is  such 
itself,  and  is  generated  in  a  thing  of  the  same  charac- 
ter ?  Aye,  said  he,  this  differs  greatly  from  that  which 
is  always  similar.  Does  then  the  essence  of  that  which 
is  always  similar  participate  more  of  essence  than  of 
science  ?  By  no  means.  But  what  as  regards  truth  ? 
Nor  of  this  neither.  If  it  participate  less  of  truth,  does 
it  not  likewise  do  so  of  essence  ?    Of  necessity.    In  short, 


312 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


then,  do  not  those  species  which  relate  to  the  care  of 
the  body  partake  less  of  truth  and  essence,  than  those 
relating  to  the  care  of  the  soul  ?  By  far.  And  the  body 
likewise  less  than  the  soul ;  do  you  not  think  so  ?  I  do. 
Is  not  that  which  is  filled  with  more  real  beings,  and  is 
itself  a  more  real  being,  in  reality  more  truly  filled  than 
that  which  is  filled  with  less  real  beings,  and  is  itself  a 
less  real  being  ?  Of  course  it  is.  If  then  it  be  pleasant 
to  be  filled  with  what  is  suitable  to  nature,  that  which 
is  in  reality  filled,  and  with  more  real  being,  must  be 
made  both  more  really  and  more  truly  to  enjoy  true 
pleasure;  but  that  which  participates  of  less  real  being, 
must  be  less  truly  and  solidly  filled,  and  participates  of 
a  more  uncertain  and  less  genuine  pleasure.  Most  nec- 
essarily, said  he.  Such  then  as  are  unacquainted  with 
wisdom  and  virtue,  and  are  always  conversant  in  feast- 
ings  and  things  of  that  kind,  are  carried,  as  it  appears, 
to  the  below,  and  back  again  to  the  middle;  and  there 
they  wander  during  life:  but  as  they  never  pass  beyond 
this,  they  do  not  look  toward  the  true  above,  and  are 
not  carried  to  it;  nor  are  they  ever  really  filled  with  real 
being;  nor  have  they  ever  tasted  solid  and  pure  pleas- 
ure; but,  after  the  manner  of  brutes  looking  always 
downward,  bowed  toward  earth  and  their  tables,  they 
live  feeding  and  coupling;  and  from  a  lust  for  such 
things,  they  kick  and  push  at  one  another  as  with  iron 
horns  and  hoofs,  and  perish  through  their  own  insatiety, 
just  like  those  who  are  filling  with  unreal  being  that 
which  is  no  real  being,  nor  friendly  to  themselves.  You 
are  describing,  Socrates,  with  quite  oracular  perfection, 
rejoined  Glaucon,  what  is  the  life  of  the  multitude. 
Must  they  not  then,  of  necessity  be  conversant  with 
pleasures  mixed  with  pains,  images  of  the  true  pleasure, 
shadowed  in  outline,  and  colored  by  their  position  beside 
each  other;  so  that  both  their  pleasures  and  pains  will 
appear  vehement,  and  engender  their  mad  passions  in 
the  foolish  ?  Hence  also  they  must  fight  about  these 
things,  as  Stesichorus  says  those  at  Troy  fought  about 
the  image  of  Helen,  through  ignorance  of  the  true  one. 
Of  necessity,  said  he,  something  of  this  kind  must  take 
place. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


313 


Chap.  XI.  But  what  ?  must  not  the  same  things  nec- 
essarily happen  to  the  irascible  part  of  the  soul,  whenever 
any  one  gratifies  it,  either  through  envy  from  ambition, 
or  violence  from  contentiousness,  or  anger  from  moroseness, 
pursuing  a  glut  of  honor,  of  conquest,  and  of  anger,  both 
without  reason,  and  without  intelligence  ?  Such  things  as 
these,  said  he,  must  necessarily  happen  with  relation  to 
this  part  of  the  soul.  What  then,  said  I,  can  we  con- 
fidently say  concerning  all  the  pleasures,  both  as  respects 
the  avaricious  and  the  ambitious  part,  that  such  of  them 
as  obey  science  and  reason,  and,  in  conjunction  therewith, 
pursue  and  obtain  the  pleasures  of  which  the  prudent 
part  of  the  soul  is  the  leader,  that  these  will  obtain  the 
truest  pleasures,  as  far  as  it  is  possible  for  them  to  attain 
true  pleasure,  and  in  as  much  as  they  follow  truth,  pleasures 
properly  their  own ;  if  indeed  what  is  best  for  each  be  most 
properly  his  own  ?  Aye,  it  surely  is  most  properly  his  own, 
said  he.  When  then  the  whole  soul  is  obedient  to  the  philo- 
sophic part,  and  there  is  no  sedition  in  it,  then  every  part  in 
other  respects  performs  its  proper  business,  and  is  just,  and 
also  reaps  its  own  pleasures,  and  such  as  are  the  best,  and  as 
far  as  is  possible  the  most  genuine.  Certainly,  indeed.  But 
when  any  of  the  others  governs,  it  happens  that  it  neither 
attains  its  own  pleasures,  and  it  compels  the  other  parts 
to  pursue  a  pleasure  foreign  to  them,  and  not  at  all 
genuine.  It  does  so,  said  he.  Will  not  then  those  parts, 
which  are  most  remote  from  philosophy  and  reason  most 
especially  effect  such  things  ?  Very  much  so.  And  is  not 
that  which  is  most  remote  from  law  and  order,  most  re- 
mote likewise  from  reason  ?  It  plainly  is.  And  have  not 
the  amorous  and  the  tyrannical  desires  appeared  to  be 
most  remote  from  law  and  order  ?  Extremely  so.  And 
the  royal  and  the  moderate  ones,  the  least  remote  ?  Yes. 
The  tyrant  then,  I  think,  will  be  the  most  remote  from 
true  pleasure,  and  such  as  is  most  properly  his  own,  and 
the  other  will  be  the  least.  Of  necessity.  And  the  tyrant, 
said  I,  will  lead  a  life  the  most  unpleasant,  and  the  king 
the  most  pleasant.  Of  great  necessity.  Do  you  know 
then,  said  I,  how  much  more  unpleasant  a  life  the  tyrant 
leads  than  the  king  ?  If  you  tell  me,  said  he.  As  there 
are  three  pleasures,  as  it  seems,  one  legitimate,  and  two 


314 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


illegitimate;  the  tyrant  in  carrying  the  illegitimate  to 
extremity,  and  flying  from  law  and  reason,  dwells  with 
slavish  pleasures  as  his  life-gnardians,  and  how  far  he  is 
inferior  cannot  easily  be  told,  unless  it  be  done  in  this 
manner.  How  ?  said  he.  The  tyrant  is  somehow  in  the 
third  degree  remote  from  the  oligarchic  character;  for  the 
democratic  was  halfway  between  them.  Yes.  Will  he 
not  then  dwell  in  the  third  picture  of  pleasure,  distant 
from  him  as  regards  truth,  if  our  former  reasonings  be 
true  ?  Just  so.  But  the  oligarchic  is  the  third  again  from 
the  royal,  if  we  suppose  the  aristocratic  and  the  royal  the 
same  ?  He  is  the  third.  The  tyrant  then,  said  I,  is  re- 
mote from  true  pleasure,  the  third  from  the  third  ?  So  it 
seems.  A  plain  surface  then,  said  I,  may  be  the  image 
of  tyrannical  pleasure,  as  to  the  computation  of  length. 
Certainly.  But  as  to  power,  and  the  third  augment,  it 
is  manifest  by  how  great  a  distance  it  is  remote.  It  is 
manifest,  said  he,  to  the  computer  at  least.  If  now,  con- 
versely, any  one  shall  say  the  king  is  distant  from  tyrant 
as  to  truth  of  pleasure,  as  much  as  is  the  distance  9,  and 
20,  and  700,  shall  he  not,  on  completing  the  multiplication, 
find  him  leading  the  more  pleasant  life,  and  the  tyrant 
the  more  wretched  one,  by  this  same  distance?*  You 
have  heaped  up,  said  he,  a  prodigious  account  of  the  dif- 
ference between  these  two  men,  the  just  and  the  unjust, 
with  reference  to  pleasure  and  pain.  Yet  the  numbers 
are  true,  said  I,  and  corresponding  to  their  lives,  if  indeed 

*  The  following  numbers  are  employed  by  Plato  in  this  place.  He 
considers  the  Royal  character  as  analogous  to  unity,  the  Oligarchic  to 
the  number  3,  and  the  Tyrannic  to  the  number  9.  As  3  therefore  is 
triple  of  unity,  the  Oligarchic  is  the  third  from  the  Royal  character ;  and 
in  a  similar  manner  the  Tyrant  is  distant  from  the  Oligarchist  by  the 
triple  in  number;  for  g  is  the  triple  of  3,  just  as  3  is  the  triple  of  i. 
But  9  is  a  plane  number,  the  length  of  which  is  3,  and  also  its  breadth. 
And  a  tyrannic,  says  Plato,  is  the  last  image  of  a  royal  life.  He  also 
calls  3  a  POWER,  because  unity  being  multiplied  by  it,  and  itself  by 
itself,  and  9  by  it,  there  will  be  produced  3,  9,  27.  But  he  calls  the 
third  augment  27,  arising  from  the  multiplication  of  the  power  3, 
and  producing  depth  or  a  solid  number.  Lastly,  27  multiplied  into 
itself  produces  729,  which  may  be  considered  as  a  perfect  multiplica- 
tion, this  number  being  the  6th  power  of  3 ;  and  6  as  is  well  known 
is  a  perfect  number.  Hence,  as  the  King  is  analogous  to  i,  he  is  said, 
lay  Plato,  to  be  729  times  distant  from  the  Tyrant. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


3'5 


days,  and  nights,  and  months,  and  years,  correspond  to 
them.  But  they  do  correspond,  said  he.  If  then  the  good 
and  just  man  surpasses  so  far  the  evil  and  unjust  man  in 
pleasure,  in  what  a  prodigious  degree  further  shall  he 
surpass  him  in  decorum  of  life,  in  beauty,  and  in  virtue! 
Prodigious,  indeed,  by  Zeus,  he  replied. 

Chap.  XIL  Well  then,  said  I,  since  we  have  reached 
this  part  of  our  argument,  let  us  recapitulate  what  we 
first  said,  on  account  of  which  we  came  hither:  now  it 
was  said,  if  I  mistake  not,  that  it  is  advantageous  to  one 
who  is  thoroughly  unjust,  but  who  has  the  character  of 
being  just  to  commit  injustice.  Was  it  not  so  said  ?  It  was 
indeed.  Now  then,  said  I,  let  us  settle  this  point,  since 
we  have  now  settled  the  other,  with  reference  to  acting 
justly  and  unjustly,  what  power  each  of  these  possesses 
in  itself.  How  ?  said  he.  Let  us  ideally  fashion  an  image 
of  the  soul,  that  the  man  who  said  those  things  may 
know  what  he  said.  What  kind  of  image  ?  said  he.  One 
of  those  creatures,  said  I,  which  are  fabled  to  have  been 
of  old,  as  that  of  Chimaera,  of  Scylla,  of  Cerberus;  and 
many  others  are  spoken  of,  where  many  particular 
natures  existed  together  in  one.  They  are  spoken  of  in- 
deed, said  he.  Let  us  form  now  the  figure  of  a  creature, 
various,  and  many-headed,*  having  all  around  heads  of 
tame  creatures,  and  of  wild,  and  having  power  in  itself 
of  changing  all  these  heads,  and  of  breeding  them  out  of 
itself.  This  is  the  work,  said  he,  of  a  skillful  modeler: 
however,  as  the  formation  is  easier  in  reasoning,  than  in 
wax  and  such-like,  let  it  be  formed.  Let  there  be  now 
one  other  figure  of  a  lion  f  and  one  of  a  man ;  but  let 
the  first  be  by  far  the  greatest,  and  the  second  be  the 
second  in  bulk.  These  are  easy,  said  he,  and  they  are 
formed.  Unite  now  these  three  in  one,  so  that  they  may 
somehow  coexist.  They  are  united,  said  he.  Form  now 
around  them  the  external  appearance  of  one  of  them, 
that  of  the  man;  so  that  to  one  who  is  not  able  to  see 
what  is  within,   but   who   perceives  only  the  external 

*By  this  many-headed  beast,  desire  is  signified, 
f  The  lion  signifies  anger,  and  the  figure  of  a  man  reason  ;  for  the 
whole  soul  is  divided  into  reason,  anger,  and  desire. 


3i6 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


covering,  the  man  may  appear  one  creature.  It  is  formed 
all  round,  said  he.  Let  us  now  tell  him  who  asserts  that 
it  is  profitable  to  this  man  to  do  injustice,  but  to  do 
justice  unprofitable,  that  he  asserts  nothing  else,  than 
that  it  is  profitable  for  him  to  feast  the  multiform  crea- 
ture, and  to  make  it  strong;  and  likewise  the  lion,  and 
what  respects  the  lion,  whilst  the  man  he  kills  with 
famine,  and  renders  weak,  so  as  to  be  dragged  which- 
ever way  either  of  those  drag  him ;  and  that  he  will  also 
find  it  advantageous  never  to  accustom  the  one  to  live 
in  harmony  with  the  other,  nor  to  make  them  friends, 
but  suffer  them  to  bite  one  another,  and  to  fight  and  de- 
vour each  other.  He,  said  he,  who  commends  the  doing 
injustice,  undoubtedly  asserts  these  things.  And  does 
not  he  again,  who  says  it  is  advantageous  to  act  justly, 
say  that  he  ought  to  do  and  to  say  such  things  by  which 
the  inner  man  shall  come  to  have  the  most  entire  com- 
mand of  the  man,  and,  as  a  tiller  of  the  ground,  shall 
take  care  of  the  many-headed  creature,  cherishing  the 
mild  ones,  and  nourishing  them,  and  hindering  the  wild 
ones  from  growing  up,  taking  the  nature  of  the  lion  as 
his  ally,  and,  having  a  common  care  for  all,  make  them 
friendly  to  one  another,  and  to  himself,  and  so  nourish 
them  ?  He  who  commends  justice  undoubtedly  says  such 
things  as  these.  In  all  respects,  then,  he  who  commends 
justice  would  seem  to  speak  the  truth,  but  he  who  com- 
mends injustice,  to  speak  what  is  false;  for,  as  respects 
pleasure,  applause,  and  profit,  he  who  commends  justice 
speaks  the  truth,  and  he  who  discommends  it  speaks 
nothing  genuine ;  nor  does  he  discommend  with  under- 
standing what  he  discommends.  Not  at  all,  said  he,  as 
appears  to  me  at  least.  Let  us  then  in  a  mild  manner 
persuade  him  (  for  it  is  not  willingly  he  errs),  asking  him, 
O  blessed  man !  do  not  we  say  that  the  maxims  of  things 
beautiful  and  base  become  so  upon  such  accounts  as 
these  ?  Those  are  good  which  make  the  brutal  part  of 
our  nature  most  subject  to  the  man,  or  rather  perhaps 
to  that  which  is  divine ;  while  those  are  evil  which  en- 
slave the  mild  part  of  our  nature  to  the  brutal:  will  he 
agree  with  us,  or  how  ?  He  will,  if  he  be  advised  by  me, 
said  he.  Is  there  then  any  one,  said,  I,  whom  it  avails,  from 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


317 


this  reasoning,  to  take  gold  unjustly,  supposing  some- 
thing of  this  kind  to  happen,  if,  while  taking  the  money, 
he  at  the  same  time  subjects  the  best  part  of  himself  to 
the  worst  ?  Or  if,  taking  gold,  he  should  enslave  a  son 
or  daughter,  and  that  even  to  savage  and  wicked  men, 
shall  we  not  say  this  would  not  avail  him,  not  though  he 
should  receive  for  it  a  prodigious  sum  ?  But  if  he  en- 
slaves the  most  divine  part  of  himself  to  the  most  im- 
pious and  most  polluted  part,  without  any  pity,  is  he 
not  wretched  ?  and  does  he  not  take  a  gift  of  gold  to  his 
far  more  dreadful  ruin,  than  Eriphyle  did  when  she  re- 
ceived the  necklace  for  her  husband's  life  ?  By  far,  said 
Glaucon;  for  I  will  answer  you  for  him. 

Chap.  XIII.  Do  you  not,  then,  think  that  intemper- 
ance has  of  old  been  blamed  on  these  accounts,  because 
in  such  persons  that  terrible,  great,  and  multiform  beast 
was  indulged  more  than  was  decent  ?  Plainly  so,  said 
he.  And  are  not  arrogance  and  moroseness  blamed, 
when  the  lion-like  and  serpentine  disposition  increases 
and  stretches  beyond  measure  ?  Certainly.  And  are  not 
luxury  and  effeminacy  blamed  because  of  the  remissness 
and  looseness  of  this  disposition,  when  it  engenders 
cowardice  in  the  man  ?  What  else  ?  Are  not  flattery 
and  illiberality  blamed,  when  any  one  makes  this  iras- 
cible part  itself  subject  to  the  brutal  crew,  and,  for  the 
sake  of  wealth  and  its  insatiable  lust,,  accustoms  the 
irascible  to  be  affronted  from  its  youth,  and  instead  of 
a  lion  to  become  an  ape  ?  Entirely  so,  said  he.  But 
why  is  it,  do  you  think,  that  mechanical  arts  and  handi- 
crafts bring  disgrace  ?  Shall  we  say  it  is  on  any  other 
account  than  this,  that  when  a  man  has  the  form  of  that 
which  is  best  in  his  soul  naturally  weak,  so  as  not  to  be 
able  to  govern  the  creatures  within  himself,  but  minis- 
ters to  them,  he  is  able  only  to  learn  what  flatters  them  ? 
It  is  likely,  said  he.  In  order,  then,  that  such  an  one  may  be 
governed  in  the  same  manner  as  the  best  man  is,  do  we 
not  say  that  he  must  be  the  servant  of  one  who  is  the 
best,  and  who  has  within  him  the  divine  governing 
principle  ?  no{  at  all  conceiving  that  he  should  be  gov- 
erned to  the  hurt  of   the   subject   (as  Thrasymachus 


3i8  THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 

imagined),  but,  as  it  is  best  for  every  one  to  be  gov- 
erned, by  one  divine  and  wise,  most  especially  possessing 
it  as  his  own  within  him,  if  not  subjecting  himself  to  it 
externally;  that  as  far  as  possible  we  may  all  resemble 
one  another  and  be  friends,  governed  by  one  and  the 
same  ?  Rightly,  indeed,  said  he.  And  law  at  least,  said 
I,  plainly  shows  it  intends  such  a  thing,  being  an  ally 
to  all  in  the  city;  as  does  likewise  the  government  of 
children,  in  not  allowing  them  to  be  free  till  we  establish 
in  them  a  proper  government,  as  in  a  city;  and  having 
cultivated  that  in  them  which  is  best,  by  that  which  is 
best  in  ourselves,  we  establish  a  similar  guardian  and 
governor  for  youth,  and  then  at  length  we  set  it  free. 
It  shows  it  indeed,  said  he.  In  what  way,  then,  shall 
we  say,  Glaucon,  and  according  to  what  reasoning, 
that  it  is  profitable  to  do  injustice,  to  be  intem- 
perate, or  to  do  anything  base,  by  which  a  man 
shall  indeed  become  more  wicked,  but  yet  shall  ac- 
quire more  wealth,  or  any  kind  of  power  ?  In  no 
way,  said  he.  But  how  shall  we  say  it  is  profitable  for 
the  unjust  to  be  concealed,  and  not  to  suffer  punishment  ? 
or  does  he  not  indeed,  who  is  concealed,  still  become 
more  wicked  ?  but  he  who  is  not  concealed,  and  is  pun- 
ished, has  the  brutal  part  quieted,  and  made  mild,  and 
the  mild  part  set  at  liberty.  And  the  whole  soul  being 
settled  in  the  best  temper,  in  possessing  temperance  and 
justice,  with  wisdom,  acquires  a  more  valuable  habit  than 
the  body  does,  in  acquiring  vigor  and  beauty,  with  a 
sound  constitution ;  in  as  far  as  the  soul  is  more  valuable 
than  the  body.  Entirely  so,  said  he.  Will  not  every- 
body then,  who  possesses  intellect,  regulate  his  life,  first 
by  extending  hither  the  whole  of  his  powers,  honoring 
those  branches  of  science  which  will  render  his  soul  of 
this  kind,  and  despising  all  other  things  ?  It  is  plain, 
said  he.  And  next,  said  I,  with  regard  to  a  good  habit 
of  body  and  its  nourishment,  he  will  spend  his  life  in 
attention  to  these,  not  that  he  may  indulge  the  brutal  and 
irrational  pleasure ;  nor  yet  with  a  view  to  health,  nor 
principally  with  reference  to  becoming  strong,  healthy, 
and  beautiful,  unless  by  these  means  he  is  to  become 
temperate  likewise:  but  he  always  appears  to  adjust  the 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


310 


harmony  of  the  body  for  the  sake  of  the  symphony  which 
is  in  the  soul.  By  all  means,  said  he,  if  indeed  he  is  to 
be  truly  musical.  Will  he  not  then,  in  acquiring  wealth, 
maintain  accord  and  symphony  ?  nor  moved  by  the  con- 
gratulations of  the  multitude  will  he  increase  the  bulk 
of  his  treasures  to  an  infinite  amount,  occasioning  thereby 
infinite  evils  ?  I  think  not,  said  he.  But  looking,  said  I, 
to  the  government  of  it  himself,  and  taking  care  that 
nothing  there  be  moved  out  of  its  place,  through  the 
greatness  or  smallness  of  his  property,  thus  governing  as 
far  as  he  is  able,  he  will  add  to  his  property,  and  spend 
out  of  it.  Entirely  so,  said  he.  He  will  regard  honors, 
likewise,  in  the  same  manner;  of  some  he  will  willingly 
take  a  share,  and  taste  of  those  which  he  judges  will 
render  him  a  better  man,  but  as  for  those  which  he 
thinks  would  dissolve  that  habit  of  soul  which  sub- 
sists within  him,  he  will  fly  from  both  those  privately 
and  in  public.  He  will  not  be  willing,  then,  said  he,  to 
act  the  politician,  if  he  takes  care  of  this.  Yes,  truly, 
said  I,  in  his  own  state,  and  greatly  too ;  but  not  proba- 
bly in  this  country,  unless  some  divine  fortune  befall 
him.  I  understand,  said  he.  You  mean, in  the  state  we 
have  now  established,  which  exists  only  in  our  reasoning, 
but  I  think  has  no  existence  on  earth.  But  in  heaven, 
probably,  said  I,  there  is  a  model  of  it,  for  any  one  who  in- 
clines to  contemplate  it,  and  on  contemplating  to  regulate 
himself  accordingly;  and  to  him  it  matters  not  whether 
it  does  exist  anywhere,  or  will  ever  exist  here:  for 
he  would  perform  the  duties  of  this  city  alone,  and  of 
no  other.    It  is  reasonable,  said  he. 


BOOK  X. 


ARGUMENT. 

The  CONCLUDING  BOOK  of  the  Republic  comprises  two  main  subjects 
of  inquiry.  First,  he  explains  more  fully  than  he  had  done  in  the 
third  book,  the  reason  for  excluding  from  his  pattern  state  the  accom- 
plishment of  poetry,  so  highly  prized  by  the  Athenians,  but  neverthe- 
less he  allows  the  admission  of  that  chaste  and  harmless  kind  of  it; 
such  as  hymns  to  the  gods  and  odes  in  honor  of  celebrated  men ;  and, 
lastly,  he  treats  of  the  rewards  both  present  and  to  come,  resulting 
from  the  practice  of  justice,  and  of  the  punishments  on  the  other 
which  attend  on  injustice,  which  is  totally  opposed  to  state-happi- 
ness. 

Chapter  I.  Moreover,  remarked  I,  both  in  many  other 
respects,  I  observe  that  we  have  been  rightly  establish- 
ing our  state,  better  indeed  than  all  others;  and  not 
least  so  do  I  say,  as  regards  our  sentiments  concerning 
poetry.  What  are  they  ?  said  he.  That  no  part  of  it 
which  is  imitative  should  by  any  means  be  admitted ;  for 
that  it  must  not  be  admitted  appears  now,  methinks,  ex- 
ceedingly clear,  since  the  several  forms  of  the  soul  have 
been  distinguished  apart  from  one  another.  How  do  you 
mean  ?  That  I  may  tell  it  to  you,  (for  you  will  not  de- 
nounce me  to  the  composers  of  tragedy,  and  the  rest  of 
the  imitative  class),  all  such  things  as  these  seem  to  be 
the  ruin  of  the  intellect  of  the  hearers,  that  is,  of  such 
of  them  as  have  not  a  test  to  enable  them  to  discern 
their  peculiar  nature.  What  consideration,  said  he,  leads 
you  to  say  this  ?  It  must  be  stated,  said  I ;  although  a 
certain  friendship,  at  least,  and  reverence  for  Homer, 
which  I  have  had  from  my  childhood,  almost  restrains  m-e 
from  telling  it;  for  he  seems  truly  both  to  have  been 
the  first  leader  and  teacher  of  all  the  good  composers  of 
tragedy;  but  still  the  man  must  not  be  honored  in  pref- 
erence to  truth.  But  what  I  mean  must  be  spoken.  By 
all  means,  said  he.  Hear  me  then,  or  rather  answer  me. 
(320) 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


321 


Put  your  question  then.  Can  you  tell  me  perfectly,  what 
is  the  nature  of  imitation  ?  for  I  do  not  myself  altogether 
understand  its  meaning.  Is  it  possible  then,  said  he,  that 
I  shall  any  how  understand  it  ?  That  would  be  no  way 
strange,  said  I ;  since  those  who  are  dim-sighted  perceive 
many  things  sooner  than  those  who  see  more  clearly. 
The  case  is  so,  said  he;  but  while  you  are  present,  I 
would  not  venture  to  tell,  even  though  I  had  some  ink- 
ling of  it,  but  consider  it  yourself.  Do  you  wish  then, 
that  we  hence  begin  our  inquiry  in  our  usual  method  ? 
for  we  used  to  suppose  a  certain  idea  relating  to  many 
individuals,  to  which  we  give  the  same  name ;  do  you 
not  understand  ?  I  do  understand.  Let  us  suppose  now 
any  one  you  please  among  the  many,  as  for  example,  if 
you  will,  there  are  many  beds  and  tables.  Of  covirse. 
But  the  ideas,  at  least  respecting  these  pieces  of  furni- 
ture, are  two,  one  of  bed,  and  one  of  table.  Yes.  And 
do  we  not  usually  say,  that  the  workman  of  each  of  these 
pieces  of  furniture,  looking  toward  the  idea,  makes  them 
thus — one  of  them  the  beds,  and  the  other  the  tables 
which  we  use ;  and  all  other  things  in  like  manner  ?  for 
surely  not  one  of  the  artificers  makes  the  idea  itself ;  for 
how  can  he  ?  By  no  means.  See  now  then,  what  kind 
of  an  artificer  do  you  call  this  ?  Which  ?  He  who  makes 
all  things  which  each  several  artificer  makes.  You  are 
alluding  to  some  skillful  and  wonderful  person.  Not 
yet,  at  least;  but  you  will  much  more  say  so  presently; 
for  this  same  mechanic  is  not  only  able  to  make  all  sorts 
of  utensils,  but  makes  everything  also  which  springs  from 
the  earth,  and  he  makes  all  sorts  of  animals,  himself  as 
well  as  others;  and  besides  these  things,  he  makes  the 
earth,  the  heaven  and  the  gods,  and  all  things  in  heaven, 
and  in  Hades  under  the  earth.  You  are  speaking,  said 
he,  of  a  perfectly  wonderful  sophist.  Do  you  disbelieve 
me  ?  said  I ;  but  tell  me,  do  you  not  think  that  there  is 
such  an  artificer;  or  that  in  one  respect  he  is  the  maker 
of  all  these  things,  and  in  another  not  so  ?  or  do  you  not 
perceive,  that  even  you  yourself  might  be  able  to  make 
all  these  things,  in  a  certain  manner  at  least  ?  And  what, 
said  he,  is  this  manner  ?  It  is  not  difficult,  said  I,  but  is 
done  in  many  ways,  and  quickly  too;  but  in  the  quickest 
21 


322 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


way  of  all,  if  I  mistake  not,  if  you  please  to  make  a  mirrof, 
and  carry  it  round  everywhere ;  for  then  you  will  very 
quickly  make  the  sun,  and  the  heavenly  bodies,  the  earth, 
yourself,  and  the  other  animals  and  utensils  and  plants, 
and  all  that  we  have  just  now  mentioned.  Yes,  said  he, 
the  appearances,  but  not  surely  the  realities.  You  come 
in,  said  I,  both  well  and  seasonably,  with  your  remark; 
for  the  painter  too,  methinks,  is  an  artificer  of  this  kind ; 
is  he  not  ?  He  cannot  possibly  be  otherwise.  You  will 
say  then,  I  suppose,  that  he  does  not  make  what  he  makes 
real  and  true,  although  the  painter  too,  in  a  certain  man- 
ner at  least,  makes  a  bed,  does  he  not  ?  Aye,  said  he ; 
but  he  too  makes  only  the  appearance. 

Chap.  II.  But  what  as  to  the  bed-maker?  did  you  not 
just  now  say,  that  he  does  not  make  the  idea  which  we 
say  exists,  and  is  a  bed,  but  only  a  particular  bed  ?  I 
did  say  so.  If  then  he  does  not  make  that  which  really 
exists,  he  does  not  make  real  being,  but  something  resem- 
bling being,  though  not  being  itself:  but  if  any  one  should 
say  that  the  work  of  the  bed-maker,  or  any  other  crafts- 
man, were  real  being,  it  seems  he  would  not  say  what 
is  true.  He  would  not,  said  he,  as  it  should  seem  to 
those  who  are  acquainted  with  such  discussions.  We 
must  not  then  be  surprised  if  this  likewise  should  seem 
somewhat  obscure  compared  with  the  truth.  Certainly 
not.  Are  you  willing  then,  said  I,  that  as  regards  these 
very  things  we  inquire  concerning  the  real  nature  of  their 
imitator  ?  If  you  please,  he  replied.  Are  there  not  then 
these  three  sorts  of  beds:  one  existing  in  nature,  and 
which  we  may  say,  I  suppose,  God  made,  or  who  else  ? 
No  one,  I  think.  And  another  which  the  joiner  makes  ? 
Yes,  said  he.  And  a  third  which  the  painter  makes:  is 
It  not  so  ?  Granted.  Now  the  painter,  the  bed-maker, 
God,  these  three  are  the  masters  of  three  species  of  beds? 
They  are  three  indeed.  But  God,  whether  it  were  that 
he  was  unwilling,  or  whether  there  was  some  necessity 
that  he  should  only  make  one  bed  in  nature,  made  this 
one  only,  which  is  really  a  bed;  while  two  or  more  of 
such  other  species  have  never  been  produced,  nor  ever 
will  be  produced  by  God.    How  so  ?  said  he.  Because, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


323 


said  I,  if  he  had  made  but  two,  one  again  would  have 
appeared,  the  idea  of  which  both  these  two  would  have 
possessed,  and  that  idea  would  be  that  of  a  bed,  and  not 
those  two.  Right,  said  he.  God  then,  methinks,  being 
aware  of  these  things,  and  willing  to  be  the  maker  of  a 
bed  really,  and  having  real  being,  though  of  no  one  par- 
ticular bed,  and  not  to  be  any  particular  bed-maker,  pro- 
duced but  one  in  nature  ?  It  seems  so.  Are  you  willing 
then  that  we  should  call  him  the  producer  of  this,  or  of 
something  of  a  similar  nature  ?  It  is  just,  said  he,  since 
he  has  in  their  essential  nature  created  this,  as  well  as 
all  other  things.  But  what  as  to  the  joiner  ?  is  not  he 
the  maker  of  a  bed  ?  Yes.  And  is  the  painter,  too,  the 
workman  and  maker  of  something  similar  ?  By  no  means. 
But  what  will  you  say  he  has  to  do  with  a  bed  ?  This, 
as  I  think,  we  may  most  reasonably  call  him,  said  he, 
an  imitator  of  what  the  others  actually  make  and  contrive. 
Be  it  so,  said  I ;  then  him  you  call  the  imitator  who  makes 
what  is  generated  the  third  from  nature  ?  Quite  so,  he 
replied.  And  this  composer  of  tragedy  will  in  like  man- 
ner, as  being  an  imitator,  rise  as  a  sort  of  third  from 
the  king  and  the  truth ;  and  so  likewise  all  other  imitators  ? 
Aye,  so  it  seems.  We  have  agreed,  then,  as  to  the 
imitator  ?  but  tell  me  this  concerning  the  painter,  whether 
you  think  he  undertakes  to  imitate  each  particular  thing  in 
nature,  or  the  works  of  artificers  ?  The  works  of  artificers, 
said  he.  Whether,  such  as  they  really  are,  or  such  onl)^  as 
they  appear  ?  for  this  we  must  define  more  correctly.  How 
say  you  ?  said  he.  Thus :  does  a  bed  differ  at  all  in  itself, 
whether  a  man  view  it  obliquely  or  directly  opposite,  or  in 
any  particular  position  ?  or,  is  it  not  at  all  different,  but  only 
apparently  different,  and  so  on  as  respects  other  things  ? 
Thus  it  appears,  said  he,  yet  it  does  not  really  differ. 
Consider  this  too,  with  reference  to  which  of  the  two  does 
painting  work,  in  each  particular  work ;  whether  with  refer- 
ence to  real  being,  to  imitate  it  as  it  really  is,  or  with 
reference  to  what  is  apparent,  as  it  appears ;  and  whether 
is  it  the  imitation  of  appearance,  or  of  truth  ?  Only  of 
appearance,  said  he.  The  imitative  art,  then,  is  far  from 
the  truth :  and  on  this  account  it  seems,  he  is  able  to  make 
these  things,  because  he  is  able  to  attain  pnly  to  som?. 


324 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


small  part  of  each  particular,  and  that  but  an  image. 
Thus  we  say  that  a  painter  will  paint  us  a  shoemaker,  a 
joiner,  and  other  craftsmen,  though  having  no  acquaint- 
ance with  any  of  these  arts ;  yet  he  will  be  able  to  deceive 
children  and  ignorant  people,  if  he  be  a  good  painter, 
when  he  paints  a  joiner,  and  shows  him  at  a  distance,  so 
far  as  to  make  them  imagine  he  is  a  real  joiner.  Of 
course.  But  this,  I  think,  my  friend,  we  must  take  into 
consideration  in  connection  with  all  these  things;  that 
when  any  one  tells  us  of  any  one,  that  he  has  met  with  a 
man  skilled  in  all  kinds  of  workmanship,  and  everything 
else  which  each  particular  artist  understands,  and  that  he 
knows  everything  whatever  more  accurately  than  any  one 
else,  we  ought  to  reply  to  such  an  one,  that  he  is  a  simple- 
ton, and  that  it  seems  he  has  been  deceived  by  falling  in 
with  some  conjurer,  or  imitator,  so  as  to  seem  to  himself, 
to  know  everything  owing  to  his  very  incapacity  of  distin- 
guishing between  science  and  ignorance  and  imitation. 
Most  true,  said  he. 

Chap.  III.  Ought  we  not  then  next,  said  I,  to  consider 
tragedy  and  its  leader.  Homer  ?  Since  from  some  we  hear 
that  these  poets  understand  all  arts,  and  all  human  affairs, 
respecting  virtue  and  vice,  and  likewise  all  divine  things; 
for  a  good  poet  must  necessarily  compose  with  knowledge, 
if  he  means  what  he  composes  to  compose  well, —  else  he  is 
not  able  to  compose.  It  is  our  business  then  to  consider 
whether  those  who  have  fallen  in  with  these  imitators  have 
been  deceived,  and  on  viewing  their  works  have  not 
perceived  that  they  are  the  third  distant  from  real  being, 
and  their  works  such  as  can  easily  be  made  by  one  not 
knowing  the  truth  (for  they  make  phantasms,  and  not  real 
beings) ;  or  whether  do  they  say  something  to  the  pur- 
pose, and  do  the  good  poets  really  know  the  things 
about  which  the  multitude  think  they  speak  well.  This, 
said  he,  is  by  all  means  to  be  inquired  into.  Think  you 
then,  that  if  any  one  could  make  both  of  these,  that  which 
is  imitated,  and  likewise  the  original  idea,  he  would  allow 
himself  seriously  to  apply  to  the  workmanship  of  the 
images,  and  propose  that  to  himself  as  the  best  thing  in 
life  ?    I  do  not.    But  if  he  were  really  intelligent  in  these 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


325 


things  which  he  imitates,  he  would,  I  think,  far  more 
seriously  study  the  things  themselves  than  the  imitations, 
and  would  try  to  leave  behind  him  many  and  beautiful 
actions,  as  monuments  of  himself,  and  rather  study  to  be 
himself  the  person  commended  than  the  mere  eulogist. 
I  think  so,  said  he ;  for  neither  is  the  honor  nor  the  profit 
equal.  As  to  other  things,  then,  let  us  not  call  them  to 
account, —  asking  Homer  or  any  other  of  the  poets,  whether 
they  were  skilled  in  medicine,  and  not  mere  imitators 
of  medical  discourses;  for  which  of  the  ancient  or  more 
recent  poets  is  said  to  have  restored  any  to  health,  as 
^sculapius  did  ?  or  what  disciples  of  medical  science  has 
any  of  them  left  behind,  such  as  he  left  his  descendants  ? 
Neither  let  us  ask  them  about  the  other  arts,  but  leave 
them  out  of  the  question;  and  with  reference  to  those 
greatest  and  most  beautiful  things  on  which  Homer  tries 
to  discourse, — about  wars  and  armies,  and  civic  constitu- 
tions, and  human  education,  it  is  just,  perhaps,  to  ques- 
tion and  inquire  of  him:  Friend  Homer,  if  you  be  not 
the  third  from  the  truth  with  regard  to  virtue,  as  being  the 
artificer  of  an  image  (for  thus  we  have  defined  an  imi- 
tator), but  rather  the  second,  and  can  discern  what  pur- 
suits render  men  better  or  worse,  in  private  as  well  as 
public,  tell  us  which  of  the  states  has  been  better 
constituted  by  you,  as  Lacedaemon  was  by  Lycurgus,  and 
great  and  small  cities  by  many  others;  but  as  respects 
yourself,  what  state  is  it  that  acknowledges  you  to  have 
been  a  good  lawgiver,  and  to  have  done  them  good 
service  ?  Italy  and  Sicily  acknowledge  Charondas,  and 
we  Solon ;  but  who  acknowledges  you  ?  Will  he  be  able 
to  mention  any  one  ?  I  think  not,  said  Glaucon.  That 
is  not  pretended  even  by  the  Homeridae  themselves.  But 
what  war  in  Homer's  days  is  recorded  to  have  been  con- 
ducted by  him  as  general,  or  adviser  ?  Not  one.  What 
then  are  his  discoveries  ?  since  among  the  works  of  a 
wise  man  there  are  many  discoveries  and  inventions  men- 
tioned, that  concern  the  arts,  and  other  affairs;  as  of 
Thales  the  Milesian,  and  of  Anacharsis  the  Scythian. 
There  is  not  any  one  such  to  be  found.  But  if  not  in  a 
public  manner,  has  Homer  the  repute  of  having  lived  as  a 
private  instructor  to  any  one  who  delighted  in  his  con- 


326 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


versation,  and  to  have  delivered  down  to  posterity  a  cef- 
tain  Homeric  manner  of  life, — just  as  Pythagoras  was 
remarkably  beloved  on  this  account,  and,  as  even  to  this 
day,  such  as  denominate  themselves  Pythagorasans  appear 
to  be  somehow  eminent  beyond  others  in  their  manner 
of  life  ?  Neither,  said  he,  is  there  anything  of  this  kind 
related  about  Homer:  for  Creophilus,*  Socrates,  the  friend 
of  Homer,  may  probably  appear  even  still  more  ridicu- 
lot:s  in  his  education,  than  in  his  name,  if  what  is  said 
of  Homer  be  true:  for  it  is  said  that  he  was  greatly 
neglected  by  him  when  he  lived. 

Chap.  IV.  It  is  said  so,  indeed,  I  replied:  but  think 
you,  Glaucon,  that  if  Homer  had  really  been  able  to 
educate  men,  and  to  make  them  better,  as  being  capable 
not  only  of  imitating  these  matters,  but  of  understanding 
them  likewise,  he  would  not  then  have  Avon  many  inti- 
mate friends,  and  have  been  loved  and  honored  by  them  ? 
Whereas  on  the  other  hand,  Protagoras  of  Abdera,  and 
Prodicus  of  Ceos,  and  many  others,  have  the  power  of 
persuading  the  men  of  their  day,  by  private  conversation, 
that  they  will  neither  be  able  to  govern  their  family  or 
the  state,  unless  they  themselves  direct  their  education; 
and  for  this  wisdom  of  theirs,  they  are  so  exceedingly 
beloved,  that  their  friends  almost  carry  them  about  on 
their  heads.  Would  then  the  men  of  Homer's  time  have 
left  either  him  or  Hesiod  to  go  about  singing  their  songs, 
if  he  could  have  done  men  service  in  the  way  of  virtue, 
and  not  rather  have  kept  him  with  offers  of  gold,  and 
so  obliged  him  to  stay  with  them ;  or,  had  they  been  un- 
able to  prevail  on  him,  would  they  not  as  disciples  have 
followed  him  everywhere,  till  they  had  gained  a  sufficient 
education  ?  Assuredly,  Socrates,  said  he,  you  appear  to 
me  to  say  what  is  true.  Shall  we  not  then  establish 
this  point,  that  all  the  poets  beginning  from  Homer,  are 
imitators  of  the  images  of  virtue,  and  of  other  things 
about  which  they  compose,  but  yet  do  not  attain  to  the 

*  According  to  the  Greek  scholiast,  Creophilus  was  an  epic  poet  of 
Chios.  Homer,  it  is  said,  married  his  daughter,  and  dwelling  in  his 
house  had  from  him  the  poem  of  the  Iliad.  His  name,  to  which  Socrates 
alludes,  signifies  a  lover  of  flesh. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


327 


real  truth ;  hut,  as  we  just  now  said,  a  painter,  who  him- 
self knows  nothing-  about  the  making  of  shoes  will  draw 
a  shoemaker,  apparently  real  only  to  such  as  are  not 
intelligent,  but  look  at  him  only  as  to  color  and  figures  ? 
Certainly.  In  the  same  manner,  I  think,  we  shall  say 
that  the  poet  colors  over  with  his  names  and  words 
certain  colors  of  the  several  arts,  without  understanding 
anything  himself,  but  merely  imitating,  so  that  to  others 
such  as  himself  who  view  things  in  his  compositions,  he 
has  the  appearance  of  possessing  knowledge :  and  if  he  says 
anything  abotit  shoemaking  in  measure,  rhythm,  and  har- 
mony, he  seems  to  speak  perfectly  well,  whether  it  be 
respecting  the  art  of  a  general  or  any  other  subject;  so 
great  is  the  enchantment  which  these  things  naturally 
have,  because  you  know,  I  think,  in  what  manner  poetry 
appears  when  striped  of  the  color  of  music,  and  expressed 
apart,  for  you  have  somewhere  beheld  it.  I  have,  said  he. 
Do  they  not,  said  I,  resemble  the  faces  of  people  who  are 
in  the  prime  of  their  life,  but  yet  not  beautiful,  such  as 
they  appear  when  their  bloom  forsakes  them  ?  Quite  so, 
said  he.  Come  then,  consider  this:  the  maker  of  the 
image,  whom  we  call  the  imitator,  knows  nothing  of  real 
being,  but  only  of  that  which  is  apparent :  is  it  not  so  ? 
Yes.  Let  us  not  then  leave  it  expressed  by  halves,  but 
let  us  examine  it  fully.  Say  on,  replied  he.  A  painter, 
we  say,  will  paint  reins  and  a  bridle.  Yes.  And  the 
leather-cutter,  and  the  smith,  will  make  them.  Certainly. 
Does  the  painter  then  understand  what  kind  of  reins  and 
bridle  there  ought  to  be ;  or  not  even  he  who  makes  them, 
the  smith,  nor  the  leather-cutter,  but  he  who  knows  how 
to  use  them,  the  horseman  alone  ?  Most  true.  Shall  we 
not  say  that  this  is  the  case  in  everything  else  ?  How  ? 
That  with  reference  to  each  particular  thing  there  are 
these  three  arts :  that  which  is  to  use  it,  that  which  is  to 
make  it,  and  that  which  is  to  imitate  it  ?  Yes.  Are 
then  the  virtue,  and  the  beauty,  and  the  rectitude  of 
every  utensil,  and  animal,  and  action,  for  nothing  else 
but  for  the  use  for  which  each  particular  was  made,  or 
generated  ?  Just  so.  Very  necessarily,  then,  must  he 
who  uses  each  particular,  be  the  most  skillful,  and  most 
able  to  tell  the  maker  what  he  makes  good  or  bad,  with 


328 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


regard  to  the  use  in  which  he  employs  it:  thus,  for 
example,  a  flute-player  will  tell  the  flute-maker  concern- 
ing flutes,  what  things  are  expedient  for  playing  on  the 
flute,  and  will  give  orders  how  he  ought  to  make  them, 
but  the  latter  will  attend  to  his  directions.  Of  course. 
Will  not  the  one  then,  being  intelligent,  pronounce  con- 
cerning good  and  bad  flutes,  and  the  other,  believing 
him,  make  them  accordingly  ?  Yes.  With  reference 
then  to  one  and  the  same  instrument,  the  maker  will 
form  a  correct  opinion  concerning  its  beauty  or  deform- 
ity, while  he  is  conversant  with  one  who  is  intelligent, 
and  is  obliged  to  hear  from  the  intelligent;  but  he  who 
uses  it  must  have  science.  Certainly.  But  will  the  imi- 
tator have  science  from  using  the  things  he  paints, 
whether  handsome  and  correct,  or  otherwise  ?  or  will  he 
form  a  correct  opinion  from  being  necessarily  conversant 
with  the  intelligent,  and  from  being  ordered  how  he 
ought  to  paint  ?  Neither  of  the  two.  The  imitator  then 
will  neither  know  nor  form  a  correct  opinion  about  what 
he  imitates  with  reference  to  beauty  or  deformity  ?  It 
seems  not.  The  imitator  then  will  be  very  skillful  in  his 
imitation,  with  regard  to  wisdom,  concerning  what  he 
paints  ?  Not  wholly  so.  Nevertheless  he  will  at  least 
imitate,  without  knowing  about  each  particular  in  what 
respect  it  is  bad  or  good;  and  he  will  probably  imitate 
such  as  appears  to  be  beautiful  to  the  multitude,  and 
those  who  know  nothing  ?  Of  course.  We  have  now, 
indeed,  sufficiently,  as  it  appears,  at  least,  settled  these 
things;  that  the  imitator  knows  nothing  worth  mention- 
ing in  those  things  which  he  imitates,  but  imitation  is  a 
sort  of  amusement,  and  no  serious  business:  and  like- 
wise, that  those  who  apply  to  tragic  poetry  in  iambics 
and  epics,  are  all  imitators  in  the  highest  degree  ? 
Certainly. 

Chap.  V.  By  Zeus,  though,  said  I,  this  business  of  imi- 
tation is  placed  somehow  in  the  third  degree  from  the 
truth :  is  it  not  ?  Yes.  To  what  part  then  of  man  does 
it  belong,  having  the  power  that  it  has  ?  What  part  do 
you  speak  of  ?  Of  such  as  this :  the  same  magnitude  per- 
ceived by  sight,  does  not  appear  in  the  same  manner. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


329 


both  near  and  at  a  distance.  It  does  not.  And  the  same 
things  appear  crooked  and  straight,  when  we  look  at  them 
in  water,  and  out  of  the  water,  and  concave  and  convex, 
through  error  of  the  sight,  as  to  colors.  All  this  disturb- 
ance is  manifest  in  the  soul ;  and  it  is  this  infirmity  of  our 
nature  which  painting  attacks,  leaving  nothing  of  magical 
seduction  unattempted,  as  well  as  the  wonder-working  art, 
and  many  other  such-like  devices.  True.  And  have  not 
the  arts  of  measure,  number,  and  weight  been  deemed  in 
these  matters  most  ingenious  helps,  that  so  the  apparent 
greater  or  less,  the  apparent  more  or  heavier,  may  not 
govern  us,  but  that  which  numbers,  measures,  and 
weighs  ?  It  must  be  so.  But  this  again  is,  at  least,  the 
work  of  the  rational  part  in  the  soul.  It  is  so,  indeed. 
But  while  reason  often  measures  and  pronounces  some 
things  to  be  greater  or  less  than  other  things,  or  equal, 
the  contrary  appears  at  the  same  time  as  regards  these 
things  ?  Yes.  But  did  not  we  say  that  it  was  impossible 
for  the  same  person  to  have  contrary  opinions  about  the 
same  things  at  the  same  time  ?  Thus  far  indeed  we  said 
rightly.  That  part  of  the  soul,  then,  which  judges  con- 
trary to  the  measure,  would  seem  not  to  be  the  same 
with  that  which  judges  according  to  the  measure.  It 
would  not.  But  surely  that,  at  least,  which  trusts  to 
measure  and  computation  would  seem  to  be  the  best  part 
of  the  soul  ?  Of  course.  That,  then,  which  opposes  itself 
to  this  will  be  one  of  our  depraved  parts.  Necessarily 
so.  It  was  this,  then,  I  wished  should  be  agreed  upon, 
when  I  said  that  painting,  and  imitation,  in  general, 
being  far  from  the  truth,  delights  in  its  own  work,  con- 
versing with  that  part  in  us  which  is  far  from  wisdom, 
and  is  its  companion  and  friend,  to  no  sound  or  genuine 
purpose.  Entirely  so,  said  he.  Imitation,  then,  being 
depraved  in  itself,  and  joining  with  that  which  is  de- 
praved, generates  depraved  things.  It  seems  so.  Whether, 
said  I,  is  the  case  thus,  with  reference  to  the  imitation 
which  is  by  the  sight  only,  or  is  it  likewise  so  with 
reference  to  that  by  hearing,  which  we  call  poetry  ? 
Probably  as  to  this  also,  said  he.  We  shall  not,  there- 
fore, said  I,  trust  to  the  appearance  in  painting,  but  we 
shall  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  the  intellectual  part 


33° 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


with  which  the  imitation  through  poetry  is  conversant, 
and  see  whether  it  is  depraved  or  worthy.  It  must  be 
done.  Let  us  proceed  then  thus:  Poetic  imitation,  we 
say,  imitates  men  acting-  either  voluntarily  or  involun- 
tarily ;  and  imagining  that  in  their  acting  they  have  done 
either  well  or  ill,  and  in  all  these  cases  receiving  either 
pain  or  pleasure :  is  the  case  any  otherwise  than  this  ? 
Not  at  all.  In  all  these,  now,  does  the  man  agree  with 
himself  ?  or,  as  he  disagreed  with  reference  to  sight,  and 
had  contrary  opinions  in  himself  of  the  same  things  at 
one  and  the  same  time,  does  he,  in  the  same  manner, 
disagree  likewise  in  his  actions,  and  fight  with  himself  ? 
But  I  recollect  that  there  is  no  occasion  for  us  to  settle 
this  at  least;  for,  in  our  previous  discussion,  we  suffi- 
ciently determined  all  this,  that  our  soul  is  full  of  a 
thousand  such  internal  contrarieties.  Right,  said  he. 
Right  indeed,  said  I,  but  it  appears  to  me  necessary  to 
discuss  now,  what  was  then  omitted.  What  is  that  ?  said 
he.  We  said  somewhere  formerly,  said  I,  that  a  good 
man,  when  he  meets  with  such  a  misfortune  as  the  loss 
of  a  son,  or  of  anything  else  which  he  values  the  most, 
will  bear  it  of  all  men  the  easiest.  Certainly.  But  let 
us  now  consider  this  further,  whether  will  he  not  grieve 
at  all,  or  is  this  indeed  impossible,  but  will  he  moderate 
his  grief  ?  The  truth,  said  he,  is  rather  this  last.  But 
tell  me  this  now  concerning  him,  whether  do  you  think 
that  he  will  struggle  more  with  grief  and  oppose  it,  when 
he  is  observed  by  his  equals,  or  when  he  is  in  solitude, 
alone  by  himself  ?  Much  more,  said  he,  when  he  is  ob- 
served. But  when  alone,  he  will  venture,  I  think,  to 
utter  many  things,  which,  if  any  one  heard  him,  he 
would  be  ashamed  of,  and  he  will  do  many  things  which 
he  would  not  wish  any  one  saw  him  doing.  Aye,  such 
is  the  case,  said  he. 

Chap.  VI.  Do  not  then  reason  and  law  command  him 
to  restrain  his  grief,  while  it  is  the  passion  itself  that 
excites  grief?  True.  As  then  there  is  a  twofold  induce- 
ment for  man's  conduct,  with  regard  to  the  same  thing, 
at  one  and  the  same  time,  we  must  necessarily  say  that 
he  has  two  conductors.    Of  course.    And  shall  we  not 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


33t 


say  that  one  of  them  is  ready  to  obey  the  law  wherever 
law  leads  him  ?  How  ?  Law  in  a  manner  says  that  it  is 
best  to  maintain  the  greatest  possible  tranquillity  in  mis- 
fortunes, and  not  to  bear  them  ill;  since  the  good  or 
evil  of  such  things  as  these  is  not  manifest,  and  since  no 
advantage  follows  the  bearing  these  things  ill;  and  as 
nothing  of  human  affairs  deserves  great  interest;  and, 
besides  this,  their  grief  proves  a  hinderance  to  that  within 
them  which  we  ought  to  have  most  at  hand.  What  is  it, 
said  he,  you  here  mean  ?  Deliberating  on  the  event, 
said  I;  and,  as  on  the  throw  of  the  dice,  regulating  our 
affairs  according  to  what  turns  up,  in  whatever  way 
reason  shall  dictate  as  best;  and  not  as  children,  when 
they  fall,  to  lie  still,  and  waste  the  time  in  crying;  but 
always  to  accustom  the  soul  to  apply  in  the  speediest 
manner  to  heal  and  raise  up  what  was  fallen  and  sick, 
putting  an  end  to  lamentation  by  medicine.  One  would 
thus,  said  he,  behave  in  the  best  manner  in  every  con- 
dition. And  did  not  we  say  that  the  best  part  is  willing 
to  follow  this  which  is  rational  ?  Plainly  so.  And  shall 
we  not  say  that  the  part  which  leads  to  the  remembrance 
of  affliction  and  to  wailings,  and  is  insatiably  given  to 
these,  is  irrational,  and  idle,  and  a  friend  to  cowardice  ? 
We  shall,  indeed,  say  so.  Is  not  the  grieving  part,  then, 
that  which  admits  of  much  and  various  imitation  ?  But 
the  prudent  and  tranquil  part,  which  is  ever  uniform  with 
itself,  is  neither  easily  imitated,  nor,  when  imitated, 
easily  understood,  especially  by  a  popular  assembly,  where 
all  sorts  of  men  are  assembled  together  in  a  theater. 
For  surely  it  is  the  imitation  of  a  disposition  whicb  is 
foreign  to  them.  Entirely  so.  It  is  plain,  then,  that  the 
imitative  poet  is  not  made  for  such  a  part  of  the  soul  as 
this:  nor  is  his  skill  fitted  to  please  it,  if  he  means  to 
gain  the  applause  of  the  multitude ;  but  he  applies  to  the 
passionate  and  the  multiform  part,  as  it  is  easily  imitated. 
It  is  plain.  May  we  not  then,  with  justice,  lay  hold  of 
the  imitative  poet,  and  place  him  in  correspondence  with 
the  painter  ?  for  he  resembles  him,  both  because,  as  to 
truth,  he  effects  but  depraved  things,  and  resembles  him 
too  in  this  being  conversant  with  a  different  part  of  the 
soul  from  that  which  is  best:  and  thus  we  may,  with 


332 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


justice,  not  admit  him  into  our  city  which  is  to  be  well 
regulated,  because  he  excites  and  nurtures  this  part  of 
the  soul,  and,  by  strengthening  this,  destroys  the  rational : 
and  just  as  he,  who  in  a  state  gives  power  to  the  wicked, 
betrays  the  state,  and  ruins  the  best  men,  we  may  in 
like  manner  say  that  the  imitative  poet  establishes  a  bad 
republic  in  the  soul  of  each  individual,  gratifying  the 
foolish  part  of  it,  which  neither  discerns  what  is  great, 
nor  what  is  little,  but  deems  the  same  things  sometimes 
great,  and  sometimes  small,  forming  little  images  in  its 
own  imagination,  altogether  remote  from  the  truth  ? 
Certainly. 

Chap.  VII.  Still  we  have  not  yet  brought  the  great- 
est accusation  against  it:  for  that  is,  somehow,  a  very 
dreadful  one,  that  it  has  the  power  of  corrupting  even 
the  good,  except  only  a  very  few.  It  must,  if  it  acts  in 
this  manner.  But  hear  now,  and  consider;  for  some- 
how, the  best  of  us,  when  we  hear  Homer,  or  any  of 
the  tragic  writers,  imitating  some  of  the  heroes  when  in 
grief,  pouring  forth  long  speeches  in  their  sorrow, 
bewailing  and  beating  their  breasts,  you  know  are  de- 
lighted; and,  yielding  ourselves,  we  follow  along,  and 
sympathizing  with  them,  seriously  commend  him  as  an 
able  poet  whoever  most  affects  us  in  this  manner.  I 
know  it,  of  course.  But  when  any  domestic  grief  befalls 
any  of  us,  you  perceive,  on  the  other  hand,  that  we 
value  ourselves  on  the  opposite  behavior,  if  we  can  be 
quiet  and  endure,  this  being  the  part  of  a  man,  but  that 
of  a  woman,  which  in  the  other  case  we  commended. 
I  perceive  it,  said  he.  Is  this  commendation  proper, 
then,  said  I,  when  we  see  such  a  man  as  one  would  not 
deign  to  be  oneself,  but  would  be  ashamed  of,  not  to 
abominate  but  to  delight  in  and  commend  him  ?  No,  by 
Zeus,  said  he ;  it  appears  unreasonable.  Certainly,  said 
I,  if  you  consider  the  matter  thus.  How  ?  If  you  reflect 
that  the  part  of  us,  which  in  our  private  misfortunes  is 
forcibly  restrained,  and  is  kept  from  weeping  and  be- 
wailing to  the  full,  being  by  nature  of  such  a  kind  as 
desires  these,  is  the  very  part  which  by  the  poets  is 
filled  and  gratified;  but  that  part  in  us,  which  is  nat- 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


333 


iirally  the  best,  being-  not  sufficiently  instructed,  either 
by  reason  or  habit,  grows  remiss  in  its  guardianship  over 
the  bewailing  part,  by  attending  to  the  sufferings  of 
others,  and  deems  it  no  way  disgraceful  to  itself,  to 
commend  and  pity  one  who  grieves  immoderately,  whilst 
he  professes  to  be  a  good  man;  but  this  it  thinks  it 
gains,  even  pleasure,  which  it  would  not  choose  to  be 
deprived  of,  by  despising  the  whole  of  the  poem:  for, 
methinks,  it  falls  to  the  share  of  few  to  be  able  to  con- 
sider, that  what  we  feel  for  others'  misfortunes  must 
necessarily  be  felt  with  respect  to  our  own,  because  it  is 
no  easy  matter  for  a  man  to  bear  up  under  his  own 
troubles,  who  strongly  cherishes  the  bewailing  disposi- 
tion over  those  of  others.  Most  true,  said  he.  And  is 
not  the  reasoning  the  same  with  reference  to  the  ridic- 
ulous ?  For  when  you  hear,  by  comic  imitation,  or  in 
private  conversation,  what  you  would  be  ashamed  to  do 
yourself  to  excite  laughter,  and  are  delighted  with  it, 
and  imitate  it,  you  do  the  same  thing  here  as  in  tragedy: 
for  that  part  which,  when  it  wanted  to  excite  laughter, 
was  formerly  restrained  by  reason  from  a  fear  of  incur- 
ring the  character  of  scurrility,  by  now  letting  loose,  and 
allowing  them  to  grow  vigorous,  you  are  often  imper- 
ceptibly brought  to  be  in  your  own  conduct  a  buffoon. 
Extremely  so,  said  he.  And  with  respect  to  venereal 
pleasures,  and  anger,  and  the  whole  of  the  passions,  as 
well  the  sorrowful  as  the  joyful  in  the  soul,  which  truly, 
we  have  said,  attend  us  in  every  action;  the  poetical 
imitation  of  these  has  the  same  effect  upon  us;  for  it 
nurtures  and  irrigates  them,  whereas  they  ought  to  be 
dried  up,  and  makes  them  govern  us,  whereas  they  ought 
to  be  governed,  in  order  to  our  becoming  better  and 
happier,  instead  of  being  worse  and  more  miserable.  I 
can  say  no  otherwise,  said  he.  When,  therefore,  Glau- 
con,  said  I,  you  find  the  eulogists  of  Homer  saying  that 
this  poet  instructed  Greece,  and  that  he  deserves  to  be 
taken  as  a  master  to  teach  both  the  management  and  the 
knowledge  of  human  affairs,  and  that  a  man  should 
regulate  the  whole  of  his  life  by  the  rules  of  this  poet, 
we  should  indeed  love  and  embrace  such  people,  as  being 
as  good  as  they  can  be ;  and  agree  with  them  that  Homer 


334 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


is  a  fine  poet,  and  the  first  of  tragic  writers:  yet  they 
must  know,  that  hymns  to  the  gods,  and  the  praises  of 
worthy  actions,  are  alone  to  be  admitted  into  onr  state: 
for  if  you  were  to  admit  the  pleasurable  muse  likewise, 
in  songs  or  verses,  we  should  have  pleasure  and  pain 
reigning  in  our  state  instead  of  law,  and  that  reason 
which  always  appears  best  to  the  community.  Most 
true,  said  he. 

Chap.  VIII.  Let  these  things  now,  said  I,  be  our 
apology,  when  we  recollect  what  we  have  said  in  refer- 
ence to  poetry,  that  we  then  very  properly  dismissed  it 
from  our  republic,  since  it  is  such  as  is  now  described: 
for  reason  obliged  us.  And  let  us  address  it  further, 
that  it  may  not  accuse  us  of  a  certain  roughness  and 
rusticity,  that  there  is  an  ancient  variance  between  phi- 
losophy and  poetry;  for  such  verses  as  these, 

That  brawling  whelp,  which  at  her  mistress  barks, 

And 

He  apes  the  great  with  empty  eloquence. 
And 

On  trifles  still  they  plod,  because  they're  poor ; 

and  a  thousand  such-like,  are  marks  of  an  ancient  oppo- 
sition between  them.  Notwithstanding,  however,  it  may 
be  said,  that  if  any  one  can  assign  a  reason  why  the 
poetry  and  the  imitation  which  are  calculated  for  pleas- 
ure ought  to  be  in  a  well-regulated  city,  we,  for  our 
part,  shall  gladly  admit  them,  as  we  are  at  least  con- 
scious to  ourselves  that  we  are  charmed  by  them.  But 
to  betray  what  appears  to  be  truth,  were  an  unholy 
thing.  For  are  not  you  yourself,  my  friend,  charmed  by 
this  imitation,  and  most  especially  when  you  see  it  per- 
formed by  Homer  ?  Very  much  so.  It  is  not  just,  then, 
that  we  introduce  it  as  speaking  its  own  defense,  either 
in  song,  or  in  any  other  measure  ?  By  all  means.  And 
we  may  at  least  grant,  even  to  its  defenders,  such  as  are 
not  poets,  but  lovers  of  poetry,  to  speak  in  its  behalf, 
without  verse,  and  show  that  it  is  not  only  pleasant,  but 
profitable  for  states,  and  human  life  also;  for  surely  we 
shall  derive  son;e  benefit  if  it  shall  be  found  to  be  not 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


335 


only  pleasant  but  profitable.  How  can  we  do  otherwise 
than  derive  benefit  from  it  ?  said  he.  And  if  it  happen 
otherwise,  my  friend,  we  shall  do  as  those  who  have  been 
in  love,  when  they  deem  their  love  unprofitable,  they 
desist,  though  with  violence;  so  we  in  like  manner, 
through  this  inate  love  of  such  poetry  that  prevails  in 
our  best  forms  of  government,  shall  be  well  pleased  to 
see  it  appear  to  be  the  best  and  truest ;  and  we  shall 
hear  it  till  it  is  able  to  make  no  further  apology.  But 
we  shall  take  along  with  us  this  discourse  which  we  have 
held,  as  a  counter-charm,  and  incantation,  being  afraid 
to  fall  back  again  into  a  childish  and  vulgar  love.  We 
may  perceive  then  that  we  are  not  to  be  much  in  earn- 
est about  such  poetry  as  this,  as  if  it  were  a  serious  affair, 
and  approached  to  the  truth ;  but  the  hearer  is  to  beware 
of  it,  and  to  be  afraid  for  the  republic  within  himself, 
and  to  entertain  those  opinions  of  poetry  which  we  men- 
tioned. I  entirely  agree,  said  he.  For  great  is  the 
contest,  friend  Glaucon,  said  I,  great  not  such  as  it  ap- 
pears, to  become  a  good  or  a  bad  man:  wherefore  is  it 
not  right  to  be  moved,  either  by  honor,  or  riches,  or 
any  magistracy  whatever,  or  poetry,  so  to  neglect  jus- 
tice, and  the  other  virtues.  I  agree  with  you,  from  what 
we  have  argued,  and  so  I  think  will  any  one  else. 

Chap.  IX.  However,  we  have  not  yet,  said  I,  dis- 
cussed the  greatest  prize  of  virtue,  and  the  rewards  laid 
up  for  her.  You  speak  of  some  prodigious  greatness,  * 
said  he,  if  there  be  other  greater  than  those  mentioned. 
But  what  is  there,  said  I,  can  be  great  in  a  little  time  ? 
for  all  this  period  from  infancy  to  old  age  is  but  little 
in  respect  of  the  whole.  Nothing  at  all  indeed,  said  he. 
What  then  ?  Do  you  think  an  immortal  being  ought  to 
be  much  concerned  about  such  a  period,  and  not  about 
the  whole  of  time  ?  I  think,  said  he,  about  the  whole. 
But  why  do  you  mention  this  ?  Have  you  not  perceived, 
said  I,  that  our  soul  is  immortal,  and  never  perishes  ?  I." 
On  which  he,  looking  at  me,  and  wondering,  said,  by 
Jupiter,  not  I  indeed.  But  are  you  able  to  show  this  ? 
I  should  otherwise  act  unjustly,  said  I.  And  I  think  you 
yourself  can  show  it,  for  it  is  not  at  all  difficult.    To  me 


336 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


at  least,  said  he,  it  is  difficult;  but  I  would  willingly 
hear  from  you  this  which  is  not  difficult.  You  shall  hear 
then,  said  I.  Only  speak,  he  replied.  Is  there  not  some- 
thing-, said  I,  which  you  call  good,  and  something  which 
you  call  evil  ?  I  own  it.  Do  you  conceive  of  them, 
then,  just  in  the  way  that  I  do  ?  How  ?  That  which 
destroys  and  corrupts  everything  is  the  evil,  and  what 
preserves  and  profits  it  is  the  good.  I  do,  said  he.  But 
what  ?  Do  you  say,  that  there  is  something  which  is 
good,  and  something  which  is  bad,  to  each  particular  ? 
as  blindness  to  the  eyes,  and  disease  to  every  animal 
body,  blasting  to  corn,  rottenness  to  wood,  rust  to  brass 
and  iron,  and,  as  I  say  almost  everything  to  its  connate 
evil  and  disease  ?  I  do,  he  replied.  And  when  anything 
of  this  kind  befalls  anything,  does  it  not  render  that 
which  it  befalls  base,  and  in  the  end  dissolve  and  de- 
stroy it  ?  How  should  it  not  ?  Its  own  connate  evil  then 
and  baseness  destroys  each  particular;  or,  if  this  does 
not  destroy  it,  nothing  else  can  ever  destroy  it:  because 
that  which  is  good  can  never  destroy  anything,  nor  yet 
that  which  is  neither  good  nor  evil.  How  can  they  ? 
said  he.  If  then  we  shall  be  able  to  find  among  beings, 
any  one  which  has  indeed  some  evil  which  renders  it 
base,  but  is  not  however  able  to  dissolve  and  destroy  it, 
shall  we  not  then  know  that  a  being  thus  constituted 
cannot  be  destroyed  at  all  ?  So  it  seems,  replied  he. 
What  then  ?  said  I :  is  there  not  something  which  renders 
the  soul  evil  ?  Certainly,  he  replied ;  all  these  things 
which  we  have  now  mentioned,  injustice,  intemperance, 
cowardice,  ignorance.  But  does  any  of  these  then  dis- 
solve and  destroy  it  ?  And  attend  now,  that  we  may 
not  be  imposed  on,  in  thinking  that  an  unjust  and  fool- 
ish man,  when  detected  acting  unjustly,  is  then  destroyed 
through  his  injustice,  which  is  the  baseness  of  his  soul; 
but  consider  it  thus :  As  disease,  which  is  the  baseness  of 
animal  body,  dissolves  and  destroys  body,  and  reduces 
it  to  be  no  longer  that  body;  so  all  those  things  we 
mentioned,  being  destroyed  by  their  own  proper  evil 
adhering  to  them  and  possessing  them,  are  reduced  to 
non-existence.  Is  it  not  so  ?  Yes.  Consider  now  the 
soul  in  the  same  manner.    Does  injustice,  and  the  rest 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


337 


of  vice,  possessing  it,  by  possessing,  and  adhering  to 
it,  corrupt  and  deface  it,  till,  bringing  it  to  death,  it 
separates  it  from  the  body  ?  By  no  means,  said  he. 
But  it  were  absurd,  said  I,  that  anything  should  be  de- 
stroyed by  the  baseness  of  another,  but  not  by  its  own. 
Absurd.  For  you  must  reflect,  Glaucon,  said  I,  that 
neither  by  the  baseness  of  victuals,  whether  owing  to 
moldiness,  or  rottenness,  or  whatever  else,  do  we  think 
our  body  can  be  destroyed ;  but  if  this  baseness  in  them 
create  in  the  body  a  depravity  of  the  body,  we  may  allege, 
that  through  their  means,  the  body  is  destroyed  by  its  own 
evil,  which  is  disease.  But  we  will  never  allow  that  by 
the  baseness  of  food,  which  is  one  thing,  the  body,  which 
is  another  thing,  can  ever  by  this  foreign  evil,  without 
creating  in  it  its  own  peculiar  evil,  be  at  anytime  de- 
stroyed.   You  speak  most  correctly,  he  replied. 

Chap.  X.  According  to  the  same  reasoning,  then,  said 
I,  unless  the  baseness  of  the  body  create  a  baseness  of 
the  soul,  let  us  never  allow  that  the  soul  can  be  de- 
stroyed by  an  evil  which  is  foreign,  without  its  own 
peculiar  evil,  one  thing  by  the  evil  of  another.  There 
is  reason  for  it,  said  he.  Let  us,  then,  either  refute 
these  things  as  not  good  reasoning ;  or,  so  long  as  they  are 
unrefuted,  let  us  at  no  time  say,  that  the  soul  shall  be 
ever  in  any  degree  the  more  destroyed,  either  by  burning 
fever,  or  by  any  other  disease,  or  by  slaughter,  not 
even  though  a  man  should  cut  the  whole  body  into  the 
smallest  parts  possible,  till  some  one  show  that,  through 
these  sufferings  of  the  body,  the  soul  herself  becomes 
more  unjust  and  unholy.  But  we  will  never  allow  it  to 
be  said,  that  when  a  foreign  evil  befalls  anything,  while 
its  own  proper  evil  is  not  within  it,  either  the  soul  or  any- 
thing else  is  destroyed.  But  this,  at  least,  said  he,  no 
one  can  ever  show,  that  the  souls  of  those  who  die  are 
by  death  rendered  more  unjust.  But  if  any  one,  replied 
I,  shall  dare  to  contend  with  us  in  reasoning;  and,  in 
order  that  he  may  not  be  obliged  to  own  that  souls  are 
immortal,  should  say,  that  when  a  man  dies  he  becomes 
more  wicked  and  unjust,  we  shall  surely  require  if  he 
who  says  this  speaks  truly,   that  injustice  is  deadly  to 

22 


338 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


the  possessor,  as  a  disease ;  and  that  those  who  embrace 
it  are  destroyed  by  it  as  by  a  disease  destructive  in  its 
own  nature,  those  must  speedily  who  embrace  it  most, 
and  those  more  slowly  who  embrace  it  less.  And  not 
as  at  present,  where  the  unjust  die  having  this  punish- 
ment inflicted  on  them  by  others.  By  Jupiter,  said  he, 
injustice  would  not  appear  perfectly  dreadful,  if  it  were 
deadly  to  him  who  practices  it  (for  that  were  a  deliverance 
from  evil) ;  but  I  rather  think  it  will  appear  to  be 
altogether  the  reverse,  destroying  others  as  far  as  it 
can,  but  rendering  the  unjust  extremely  alive,  and,  in 
conjunction  with  being  alive,  wakeful  likewise ;  so  far, 
as  it  seems,  does  it  dwell  from  being  deadly.  You  say 
well,  replied  I ;  for,  when  a  man's  own  wickedness  and 
peculiar  evil  is  not  sufficient  to  kill  and  destroy  the  soul, 
that  evil,  which  aims  at  the  destruction  of  another,  can 
scarcely  destroy  a  soul,  or  anything  else  but  that  against 
which  it  is  aimed.  Hardly,  indeed,  said  he,  as  I  think  at 
least.  Since,  therefore,  it  is  destroyed  by  no  one  evil, 
neither  peculiar  nor  foreign,  is  it  not  plain  that,  of  neces- 
sity, it  always  is  ?  and,  if  it  always  is,  it  is  immortal  ? 
Necessarily  so,  he  replied. 

Chap.  XI.  Let  this  then,  said  I,  be  so  settled;  and  if 
it  be,  you  will  perceive  that  the  same  souls  will  always 
remain,  for  their  number  will  never  become  less,  none 
being  destroyed,  nor  will  it  become  greater;  for  if,  any- 
how, the  number  of  immortals  was  made  greater,  you 
know  it  would  take  from  the  mortal,  and  in  the  end  all 
would  be  immortal.  You  say  true.  But  let  us  not,  said 
I,  think  that  this  will  be  the  case  (for  reason  will  not 
allow  of  it),  nor  yet  that  the  soul  in  its  truest  nature  is 
of  such  a  kind  as  to  be  full  of  much  variety,  dissimilitude, 
and  difference  considered  in  itself.  How  mean  you  ?  said 
he.  That  cannot  easily,  said  I,  be  eternal  which  is  com- 
pounded of  many  things,  and  which  has  not  the  most 
beautiful  composition,  as  hath  now  appeared  to  us  to  be 
the  case  with  reference  to  the  soul.  It  is  not  likely. 
That  the  soul  then  is  something  immortal,  both  our  pres- 
ent reasonings,  and  others  too,  may  oblige  us  to  own: 
but  in  order  to  know  what  kind  of  being  the  soul  is,  in 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


339 


truth,  one  ought  not  to  contemplate  it  as  it  is  damag-ed 
both  by  its  conjunction  with  the  body  and  by  other  evils, 
as  we  now  behold  it,  but  such  as  it  is  wher.  become  pure, 
such  it  must  by  reasoning  be  fully  contemplated;  and  he 
(who  docs  this)  will  find  it  far  more  beautiful  at  least, 
and  will  more  plainly  see  through  justice,  and  injustice, 
and  everything  which  we  have  now  discussed.  We  are 
now  telling  the  truth  concerning  it,  such  as  it  appears  at 
present.  We  have  seen  it,  indeed,  in  the  same  condition  in 
which  they  see  the  marine  Glaucus,*  where  they  cannot 
easily  perceive  his  ancient  nature,  because  the  ancient 
members  of  his  body  are  partly  broken  off,  and  others  are 
worn  away;  and  he  is  altogether  damaged  by  the  waves: 
and,  besides  this,  other  things  are  grown  to  him,  such 
as  shellfish,  seaweed,  and  stones:  so  that  he  in  every  re- 
spect resembles  a  beast,  rather  than  what  he  naturally 
was.  In  such  a  condition  do  we  behold  the  soul  under  a 
thousand  evils.  But  we  ought  to  behold  it  there,  Glaucon. 
Where?  said  he.  In  its  philosophy;  and  to  observe  to 
what  it  applies,  and  what  intimacies  it  professes,  as  being 
allied  to  that  which  is  divine,  immortal,  and  eternal;  and 
what  it  would  become,  if  it  wholly  pursued  a  thing  of 
this  kind,  and  were  by  this  pursuit  brought  out  of  that 
sea  in  which  it  now  is,  and  had  the  stones  and  shellfish 
shaken  off  from  it,  which,  at  present,  as  it  is  fed  on 
earth,  render  its  nature,  to  a  great  extent,  earthy,  stony, 
and  savage,  through  those  aliments,  which  are  said  to 
procure  felicity:  and  then  one  might  behold  its  true  na- 
ture, whether  multiform,  or  uniform,  and  everything 
concerning  it.  But  we  have,  I  think,  sufficiently  dis- 
cussed its  passions,  and  forms  in  human  life.  Assuredly, 
he  replied. 

Chap.  XII.  Have  we  not  now,  said  I,  discussed  every- 
thing else  in  our  reasonings,   though  we  have  not  pro- 

*  According  to  the  Greek  Scholiast,  Glaucus  is  said  to  have  been 
the  son  of  Sisyphus  and  Merope,  and  to  have  become  a  marine 
demon.  Meeting  with  an  immortal  fountain,  and  descending  into 
it,  he  became  immortal.  Not  being  able,  however,  to  point  out 
this  fountain  to  certain  persons,  he  threw  himself  into  the  sea;  and 
once  every  year  coursed  round  all  shores  and  islands  in  conjunction 
with  whales. 


340 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


duced  those  rewards  and  honors  of  justice  (as  you  say 
Hesiod  and  Homer  do)?  but  we  find  justice  itself  to  be 
y  the  best  reward  to  the  soul;  and  that  it  ought  to  do 
what  is  just,  whether  it  have  or  have  not  Gyges's  ring, 
and,  together  with  such  a  ring,  the  helmet  *  likewise  of 
Pluto.  You  say  most  true,  said  he.  Will  it  not  now, 
then,  Glaucon,  said  I,  be  attended  with  no  envy,  if,  be- 
sides these,  we  add  those  rewards  to  justice  and  the 
other  virtues,  which  are  bestowed  on  the  soul  by  men 
and  gods,  both  while  the  man  is  alive,  and  after  he  is 
dead  ?  By  all  means,  said  he.  Will  you,  then,  restore 
me  what  you  borrowed  in  the  reasoning  ?  What,  chiefly  ? 
I  granted  you,  that  the  just  man  should  be  deemed  un- 
just, and  the  unjust  be  deemed  to  be  jttst.  For  you 
were  of  opinion,  that  though  it  were  not  possible  that 
these  things  should  be  concealed  from  gods  and  men,  it 
should,  however,  be  granted,  for  the  sake  of  the  argu- 
ment, that  justice  in  itself  might  be  compared  with  in- 
justice in  itself ;  do  you  not  remember  it  ?  I  should, 
indeed,  be  unjust,  said  he,  if  I  did  not. 

Now  after  the  judgment  is  over,  I  demand  again,  in 
behalf  of  justice,  that  as  you  allow  it  to  be  indeed  es- 
teemed both  by  gods  and  men,  you  likewise  allow  it  to 
have  the  same  good  reputation,  that  it  may  also  receive 
those  prizes  of  victory,  which  it  acquires  from  the  repu- 
tation of  justice,  and  bestows  on  those  who  possess  it  ; 
since  it  has  already  appeared  to  bestow  those  good  things 
which  arise  from  really  being  just,  and  that  it  does  not 
deceive  those  who  truly  embrace  it.  You  demand  what  is 
just,  said  he.  Will  you  not,  then,  said  I,  in  the  first  place, 
restore  me  this  ?  That  it  is  not  concealed  from  the  gods, 
what  kind  of  man  each  of  the  two  is.  We  will  grant  it, 
said  he.  And  if  they  be  not  concealed,  one  of  them  will 
be  beloved  of  the  gods,  and  one  of  them  hated,  f  as  we 
agreed  in  the  beginning.    Such  is  the  case.    And  shall 

*  The  helmet  of  Pluto  is  said  to  be  an  immortal  and  invisible  cloud, 
with  which  the  gods  are  invested  when  they  wish  not  to  be  known  to 
each  other.  And  it  is  applied  as  a  proverb  to  those  that  do  anything 
secretly. —  Schol.  Graec.  in  Plat.  p.  197. 

t  That  is  to  say,  one  of  these  through  aptitude  will  receive  the  illu- 
minations of  divinity,  and  the  other  through  inaptitude  will  subject 
himself  to  the  power  of  avenging  demons. 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


341 


we  not  agree,  that  as  to  the  man  who  is  beloved  of  the 
gods,  whatever  comes  to  him  from  the  gods,  will  all  be 
the  best  possible,  unless  he  has  some  necessary  ill  from 
former  miscarriage  ?  Certainly.  We  are  then  to  think 
thus  of  the  just  man.  That  if  he  happen  to  be  in  poverty, 
or  in  diseases,  or  in  any  other  of  those  seeming  evils, 
these  things  to  him.  issue  in  something  good,  either  whilst 
alive  or  dead.  For  never  at  any  time  is  he  neglected  by 
the  gods,  who  inclines  earnestly  to  endeavor  to  become 
just,  and  practices  virtue  as  far  as  it  is  possible  for  man 
to  resemble  God.  It  is  reasonable,  replied  he,  that  such 
an  one  should  not  be  neglected  by  him  whom  he  resem- 
bles. And  are  we  not  to  think  the  reverse  of  these  things 
concerning  the  unjust  man  ?  Certainly.  Such,  then,  would 
seem  to  be  the  prizes  which  the  just  man  receives 
from  the  gods.  Such  they  are,  indeed,  in  my  opinion, 
said  he.  But  what,  said  I,  do  they  receive  from  men  ? 
Is  not  the  case  thus  (if  we  are  to  suppose  the  truth)  ?  Do 
not  cunning  and  unjust  men  do  the  same  thing  as  those 
racers,  who  run  well  at  the  beginning,  but  not  so  at  the 
end  ?  for  at  the  first  day  they  briskly  leap  forward,  but  in 
the  end  they  become  ridiculous,  and,  with  their  ears  on 
their  neck,  they  run  off  without  any  reward.  But  such 
as  are  true  racers,  arriving  at  the  end,  both  receive  the 
prizes  and  are  crowned.  Does  it  not  happen  thus,  for  the 
most  part,  as  to  just  men;  that  at  the  end  of  every  action 
and  intercourse  of  life  they  are  both  held  in  esteem,  and 
receive  rewards  from  men  ?  Entirely  so.  You  will  then 
suffer  me  to  say  of  these  what  you  yourself  said  of  the 
unjust.  For  I  will  aver  now,  that  the  just,  when  they 
are  grown  up,  shall  arrive  at  power  if  they  desire  magis- 
tracies, they  shall  marry  where  they  incline,  and  shall 
settle  their  children  in  marriage  agreeably  to  their  wishes ; 
and  everything  else  you  mentioned  concerning  the  others, 
I  now  say  concerning  these.  And  on  the  other  hand,  I 
will  say  of  the  unjust,  that  the  most  of  them,  though  they 
may  remain  concealed  while  young,  yet,  being  caught  at 
the  end  of  the  race,  are  ridiculous;  and,  when  they  be- 
come old,  are  wretched  and  ridiculed,  and  shall  be 
scourged  both  by  foreigners  and  citizens,  and  afterwards  tor- 
tured and  burned;  which  you  said  were  terrible  things;  and 


342 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


you  spoke  the  truth.  You  may  suppose  that  you  hear  from 
me  that  they  suffer  all  these  things.  But  see  if  you  will  ad- 
mit what  I  say.   Certainly,  said  he,  for  you  say  what  is  just. 

Chap.  XIIL  These  then,  said  I,  are  the  prizes,  the 
rewards  and  gifts,  which  a  just  man  receives  during  life, 
both  from  gods  and  men ;  besides  those  good  things  which 
justice  contains  in  itself.  And  they  are  extremely  beauti- 
ful, said  he,  and  permanent.  But  these  now,  said  I,  are 
nothing  in  number  or  magnitude,  when  compared  with 
those  which  await  each  of  the  two  at  death.  And  these 
things  must  likewise  be  heard,  that  each  of  them  may 
completely  have  what  is  their  due  in  the  reasoning.  You 
may  say  on,  he  replied,  as  to  one  who  would  not  listen 
to  many  other  things  with  greater  pleasure.  But,  how- 
ever, I  will  not,  said  I,  tell  you  the  apologue  of  Alcinous ; 
but  that,  indeed,  of  a  brave  man,  Erus  the  son  of  Ar- 
menius,  by  descent  a  Pamphylian;  who  happening  on  a 
time  to  die  in  battle,  when  the  dead  were  on  the  tenth  day 
carried  off,  already  corrupted,  was  taken  up  sound;  and 
being  carried  home,  as  he  was  about  to  be  buried  on  the 
twelfth  day,  when  laid  on  the  funeral  pile,  revived;  and 
being  revived,  he  told  what  he  saw  in  the  other  state,  and 
l''said,  that  after  his  soul  left  the  body,  it  went  with  many 
others,  and  that  they  came  to  a  certain  mysterious,  hal- 
lowed place,  where  there  were  two  chasms  in  the  earth, 
near  to  each  other,  and  two  other  openings  in  the  heavens 
opposite  on  them,  and  that  the  judges  sat  between  these ; 
;  that  when  they  gave  judgment,  they  commanded  the  just 
^  to  go  on  the  right  hand,  and  upward  through  the  heaven, 
I  having  fitted  marks  on  the  front  of  those  that  had  been 
•judged;  but  the  unjust  they  commanded  to  the  left,  and 
*  downward,  and  these  Ijkewise  had  behind  them  marks 
.  of  all  that  they  had  done.  But  when  he  came  before  the 
judges,  they  said  he  ought  to  be  a  messenger  to  men 
concerning  things  there,  and  they  commanded  him  to  hear, 
and  contemplate  everything  therein ;  and  that  he  saw  there, 
through  two  openings,  one  of  the  heaven,  and  one  of  the 
earth,  the  souls  departing,  after  they  were  there  judged; 
and  through  the  other  two  openings  he  saw,  rising  through 
the  one  out  of  the  earth,  souls  full  of  squalidness  and 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


343 


dust;  and  through  the  other,  he  saw  other  sovils  descend- 
ing pure  from  heaven;  and  that  on  their  arrival  from  time 
to  time  they  seemed  as  if  they  came  from  a  long  journey, 
and  that  they  gladly  went  to  rest  themselves  in  the 
meadow,  as  in  a  publie  assembly,  and  such  as  were  ac- 
quainted saluted  one  another,  and  those  who  rose  out  of 
the  earth  asked  the  others  concerning  the  things  above, 
and  those  from  heaven  asked  them  concerning  the  things 
below,  and  that  they  told  one  another:  those  wailing  and 
weeping  whilst  they  called  to  mind,  what  and  how  many 
things  they  suffered  and  saw  in  their  journey  under  the 
earth  (for  it  was  a  journey  of  a  thousand  years);  and 
that  these  again  from  heaven  explained  their  enjoyments, 
and  spectacles  of  amazing  beauty.  To  narrate  many  of  them, 
Glaucon,  would  occupy  much  time ;  but  this,  he  said,  was 
the  sum,  that  whatever  unjust  actions  a  man  had  com- 
mitted, and  whatever  injuries  a  man  had  committed,  they 
were  punished  for  all  these  separately  tenfold,  and  that  it 
was  in  each,  according  to  the  rate  of  a  hundred  years 
(the  life  of  man  being  considered  as  so  long),  that  they 
might  suffer  tenfold  punishment  for  the  injustice  they 
had  done ;  so  that  if  any  had  been  the  cause  of  many  deaths, 
either  by  betraying  cities  or  armies,  or  bringing  men  into 
slavery,  or  being  confederates  in  any  other  wickedness,  for 
each  of  all  these  they  reaped  tenfold  sufferings;  and  if, 
again,  they  had  benefited  any  by  good  deeds,  and  had  been- 
just  and  holy,  they  were  rewarded  according  to  their 
deserts.  Of  those  who  died  very  young,  and  lived  but  a 
little  time,  he  related  other  things  not  worth  mentioning; 
but  of  impiety  and  piety  toward  the  gods  and  parents, 
and  of  suicide,  he  told  the  more  remarkable  retributions; 
for  he  said  he  was  present  when  one  was  asked  by  another, 
where  the  great  Aridseus  was  ?  This  Aridseus  had  been 
tyrant  in  a  certain  city  of  Pamphylia  a  thousand  years 
before  that  time,  and  had  killed  his  aged  father  and  elder 
brother,  and  had  done  many  other  unhallowed  deeds,  as 
was  reported;  and  he  said,  that  the  one  who  was  asked, 
replied:    He  neither  comes  nor  ever  will  come  hither.  ^ 

Chap.  XIV.  Well  then  we  saw  this  likewise,  among 
other  dreadful  spectacles :  When  we  were  near  the  mouth 


344 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


of  the  opening-,  and  were  about  to  ascend  after  having  suf- 
fered everything  else,  we  on  a  sudden  beheld  both  him, 
and  others  likewise,  most  of  whom  were  tyrants,  and  there 
were  some  private  persons  who  had  committed  great 
iniquity,  whom,  when  they  thought  they  were  to  ascend, 
the  mouth  of  the  opening  did  not  admit,  but  bellowed 
when  any  of  those  who  were  so  polluted  with  wickedness, 
or  who  had  not  been  sufficiently  punished,  attempted  to 
ascend.  And  then,  said  he,  fierce  men,  and  fiery  to  look 
on,  standing  by,  and  perceiving-  the  bellowing,  took  some 
of  them  and  led  them  apart,  but  Aridaeus  and  the  rest, 
having  bound  their  hands  and  feet,  and  head,  they  thrust 
down  and  flayed,  and  then  dragged  them  to  an  outer 
road,  tearing  them  on  thorns;  declaring  always  to  those 
who  passed  by,  on  what  accounts  they  sufEered  these 
things,  and  that  they  were  carrying  them  to  be  thrown 
into  Tartarus.  And  hence,  he  said,  that  amidst  all  their 
various  terrors,  this  terror  stirpassed,  lest  the  mouth 
should  bellow,  and  that  when  it  was  silent  every  one  most 
gladly  ascended;  and  that  the  punishments  and  torments 
were  such  as  these,  and  their  rewards  were  the  reverse 
of  these.  He  also  added,  that  every  one  arising  thence, 
after  they  had  been  seven  days  in  the  meadow,  was  re- 
quired to  depart  on  the  eighth  day,  and  arrive  at  another 
place  on  the  fourth  day  after,  whence  they  perceived  from 
above  through  the  whole  heaven  and  earth,  a  light  extended 
as  a  pillow  mostly  resembling  the  rainbow,  but  more  splen- 
did and  pure;  at  which  they  arrived  in  one  day's  journey; 
and  thence  they  perceived,  through  the  middle  of  the 
light  from  heaven,  the  extremities  of  its  ligatures  ex- 
tended; as  this  light  was  the  belt  of  heaven,  like  the 
transverse  beams  of  ships  keeping  the  whole  circumfer- 
ence united;  that  from  the  extremities  the  distaff  of  Ne- 
cessity is  extended,  by  which  all  the  revolutions  were 
turned  round,  whose  spindle  and  point  were  both  of  ad- 
amant, but  its  whirl  commingled  both  with  this  and  other 
things;  and  that  the  nature  of  the  whirl  was  of  such  a 
kind,  as  to  its  figure,  as  is  any  one  we  see  here.  But 
you  must  conceive  it,  from  what  he  said,  to  be  of  such  a 
kind  as  this:  as  if  in  some  great  hollow  whirl,  carved 
throughout,  there  was  such  another,  but  lesser,  within  it, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


345 


adapted  to  it,  like  casks  fitted  one  within  another;  and  in 
the  same  manner  a  third,  and  a  fourth,  and  four  others, 
for  that  the  whirls  were  eight*  in  all,  as  circles  one  within 
another,  having  their  lips  appearing  upward,  and  form- 
ing round  the  spindle  one  united  convexity  of  one  whirl ; 
that  the  spindle  was  driven  through  the  middle  of  the 
eight ;  and  that  the  first  and  outmost  whirl  had  the  widest 
circumference  in  the  lip,  that  the  sixth  had  the  second 
wide,  and  that  of  the  fourth  the  third  wide,  and  the  fourth 
that  of  the  eighth,  and  the  fifth  that  of  the  seventh,  the 
sixth  that  of  the  fifth;  and  the  seventh  that  of  the  third, 
and  the  eighth  that  of  the  second.  Likewise  that  the  circle 
of  the  largest  is  variegated,  that  of  the  senventh  is  the 
brightest,  and  that  of  the  eighth  has  its  color  from  the 
shining  of  the  seventh;  those  of  the  second  and  fifth  re- 
semble each  other,  but  are  more  yellow  than  the  rest. 
But  the  third  is  bright  white,  the  fourth  reddish,  the 
second  in  whiteness  surpasses  the  sixth;  and  the  dis- 
taff must  turn  round  in  a  circle  with  the  whole  that  it 
carries;  and  while  the  whole  is  turning  round,  the  seven 
inner  circles  are  gently  turned  round  in  a  contrary  mo- 
tion to  the  whole ;  again,  that  of  these,  the  eighth  moves 
the  swiftest;  and  next  to  it,  and  equal  to  one  another, 
the  seventh,  the  sixth,  and  the  fifth;  and  that  the  third 
went  in  a  motion  which  as  appeared  to  them  completed 
its  circle  in  the  same  way  as  the  fourth.  The  fourth  in 
swiftness  was  the  third,  and  the  fifth  was  the  second, 
and  it  was  turned  round  on  the  knees  of  Necessity;  and 
that  on  each  of  its  circles  there  was  seated  a  Siren  on 
the  upper  side,  carried  round,  and  uttering  one  voice  va- 
riegated by  diverse  modulations;  but  that  the  whole  of 
them,  being  eight,  composed  one  harmony;  that  there 
were  other  three  sitting  round  at  equal  distance  one  from 
another,  each  on  a  throne,  the  aaughters  of  Necessity,  the 
Fates,  clothed  in  white  vestments,  and  ha\'ing  crowns  on 
their  heads;  Lachesis,  Clotho,  and  Atropos,  singing  to 
the  harmony  of  the  Sirens;  Lachesis  singing  the  past, 
Clotho  the  present,  and  Atropos  the  future.  And  that 
Clotho,  at  certain  intervals,  with  her  right  hand  laid  hold 

*  By  the  eight  whirls,  we  must  understand  the  eight  starry  spheres, 
viz :  the  sphere  of  the  fixed  stars,  and  the  spheres  of  the  seven  planets. 


346 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


of  the  spindle,  and  along  with  her  mother  turned  abou\ 
the  outer  circle;  and  Atropos,  in  like  manner  turned 
the  inner  ones  with  her  left  hand,  and  that  Lachesis 
touched  both  of  these,  severally,  with  either  hand. 

Chap.  XV.  After  they  arrive  here,  it  is  necessary  for 
them  to  go  directly  to  Lachesis.  That  then  a  certain 
prophet  first  of  all  ranges  them  in  order,  and  afterward 
taking  the  lots,  and  the  models  of  lives,  from  the  knees 
of  Lachesis,  and  ascending  a  lofty  tribunal,  he  says:  The 
speech  of  the  virgin  Lachesis,  the  daughter  of  Necessity: 
Souls  of  a  day  !  The  beginning  of  another  period  of  men 
of  mortal  race:  the  demon  shall  not  receive  you  as  his 
lot,  but  you  shall  choose  the  demon ;  he  who  draws  the 
first,  let  him  first  make  choice  of  a  life,  to  which  he  must 
of  necessity  adhere:  Virtue  is  independent,  of  which 
every  one  shall  partake,  more  or  less,  according  as  he 
honors  or  dishonors  her:  the  cause  is  in  him  who  makes 
the  choice,  and  the  Deity  is  blameless;  that  when  he  had 
said  these  things,  he  threw  the  lots  on  all  of  them,  and 
that  each  took  up  the  one  which  fell  beside  him,  except 
himself,  for  he  was  not  permitted;  and  that  when  each 
had  taken  it,  he  knew  what  number  he  had  drawn;  that 
after  this  he  placed  on  the  ground  before  them  the  models 
of  lives,  many  more  than  those  we  see  at  present;  and 
that  they  were  all  various,  for  there  were  lives  of  all 
sorts  of  animals,  and  humaa..  lives  of  every  kind ;  and  that 
among  these  there  were  tyrannies  also,  some  of  them  per- 
petual, and  others  destroyed  in  the  midst  of  their  great- 
ness, and  ending  in  poverty,  banishment,  and  want.  That 
there  were  also  lives  of  renowned  men,  some  for  their 
appearance  as  to  beauty,  strength,  and  agility;  and  others 
for  their  descent,  and  the  virtues  of  their  ancestors. 
There  were  the  lives  of  renowned  women  in  the  same  man- 
ner. But  that  there  was  no  disposition  of  soul  among 
these  models,  because  of  necessity,  on  choosing  a  different 
life,  it  becomes  different  itself.  As  to  other  things, 
riches  and  poverty,  sickness  and  health,  they  were  mixed 
with  one  another,  and  some  were  in  a  middle  station  be- 
tween these. 

There  then,  as  it  seems,  friend  Glaucon,  is  the  whole 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


347 


danger  of  man.  And  hence  this  of  all  things  is  most  to 
be  attended  to,  how  each  of  us,  omitting  other  studies, 
is  to  become  an  inquirer  and  learner  in  this  study,  in 
order  to  be  able  to  learn  and  find  out  who  will  make 
him  expert  and  intelligent  to  discern  a  good  life  and  a 
bad;  and  to  choose  everywhere,  and  at  all  times  the 
best  of  what  is  possible,  considering  all  that  we  have 
mentioned,  both  compounded  and  separated  from  one 
another,  what  they  are  with  respect  to  the  virtue  of  life; 
and  to  understand  what  good  or  evil  beauty  produces 
when  mixed  with  poverty,  or  riches,  and  with  this  or 
the  other  habit  of  soul;  and  what  is  effected  by  noble 
and  ignoble  descent,  by  privacy,  and  by  public  station, 
by  strength  and  weakness,  docility  and  indocility,  and 
everything  else  of  the  kind  which  naturally  pertains  to 
the  soul,  and  likewise  of  what  is  acquired,  when  blended 
one  with  another,  so  as  to  be  able  from  all  these  things 
to  compute,  and,  having  an  eye  to  the  nature  of  the 
soul,  to  comprehend  both  the  worse  and  the  better  life, 
pronouncing  that  to  be  the  worse  which  shall  lead  the 
soul  to  become  more  unjust,  and  that  to  be  the  better 
life  which  shall  lead  it  to  become  more  just,  and  to  dis- 
miss every  other  consideration:  for  we  have  seen  that  in 
life,  and  in  death,  this  is  the  best  choice.  It  is  necessary, 
therefore,  that  a  man  should  have  this  opinion  firm  as  an 
adamant  in  him,  when  he  departs  to  Hades,  that  there 
also  he  may  be  unmoved  by  riches,  or  any  such  evils, 
and  may  not,  falling  into  tyrannies,  and  other  such 
practices,  do  many  and  incurable  mischiefs,  and  himself 
suffer  still  greater:  but  may  know  how  to  choose  always 
the  middle  life,  as  to  these  things,  and  to  shun  the  ex- 
tremes on  either  hand,  both  in  this  life  as  far  as  is  possible, 
and  in  the  whole  future.    For  thus  man  becomes  happy. 

Chap.  XVI.  At  that  time,  therefore,  the  messenger 
from  the  other  world  further  told  how  that  the  prophet 
spoke  thus:  Even  to  him  who  comes  last,  if  he  chooses 
with  judgment,  and  lives  consistently,  there  is  prepared 
a  desirable  life;  not  bad.  Let  neither  him  who  is  first 
be  negligent  in  his  choice,  not  let  him  who  is  last  despair. 
He  said,  that  when  the  prophet  had  spoken  these  things, 


348 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


the  first  who  drew  a  lot  ran  instantly  and  chose  the  great- 
est tyranny,  but  through  folly  and  insatiableness  had 
not  sufficiently  examined  all  things  on  making  his  choice, 
but  was  ignorant  that  in  this  life  there  was  this  destiny, 
the  devouring  of  his  own  children,  and  other  evils;  and 
that  afterward,  when  he  had  considered  it  at  leisure,  he 
wailed  and  lamented  his  choice,  not  having  observed  the 
admonitions  of  the  prophet  above  mentioned ;  inasmuch  as 
he  did  not  accuse  himself,  as  the  author  of  his  misfor- 
tunes, but  fortune  and  the  demons,  and  everything  rather 
than  himself.  He  added,  that  he  was  one  of  those  who 
came  from  heaven,  who  had  in  his  former  life  lived  in  a 
regulated  republic,  and  had  been  virtuous  by  custom 
without  philosophy ;  and  that,  in  short,  among  these  there 
were  not  a  few  who  came  from  heaven,  as  being  unex- 
ercised in  trials;  but  most  of  those  who  came  from  earth, 
as  they  had  endured  hardships  themselves,  and  had  seen 
others  in  hardships,  did  not  precipitately  make  their  choice. 
And  hence,  and  through  the  fortune  of  the  lot,  to  most 
souls  there  was  an  exchange  of  good  and  evil  things. 
Since,  if  one  should  always,  whenever  he  comes  into  this 
life,  soundly  philosophize,  and  the  lot  of  election  should  not 

•  fall  on  him  the  very  last,  it  would  seem,  from  what  has 
.  been  told  us  from  thence,  that  he  shall  be  happy  not  only 
]  here,  but  when  he  goes  hence,  and  his  journey  hither  back 

again  shall  not  be  earthy  and  rugged,  but  smooth  and 

•  heavenly.  This  spectacle,  he  said,  was  worthy  to  behold, 
in  what  manner  the  several  souls  made  choice  of  their 
lives;  for  it  was  pitiful  and  ridiculous  and  wonderful  to 
behold,  as  each  for  the  most  part  chose  according  to  the 
habit  of  his  former  life ;  for  he  alleged,  that  he  saw  the 
soul  which  was  formerly  the  soul  of  Orpheus  making  choice 
of  the  life  of  a  swan,  through  hatred  of  womankind,  being 
unwilling  to  be  bom  of  woman  on  account  of  the  death  he 
suffered  from  them.  He  saw  likewise  the  soul  of  Thamyris 
making  choice  of  the  life  of  a  nightingale.  And  he  saw 
also  a  swan  turning  to  the  choice  of  human  life ;  and  other 
musical  animals  in  a  similar  manner,  as  is  likely;  and  he 
saw  also  one  soul,  while  making  its  choice,  choosing  the  life 
of  a  lion;  and  it  was    the  soul  of  Telamonian  Ajax, 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


349 


unwilling  to  become  a  man,  because  it  recollected  the  judg- 
ment given  with  reference  to  the  armor;  that  he  then 
saw  the  soul  of  Agamemnon,  which,  in  hatred  also  of 
the  human  kind,  through  his  misfortunes,  exchanged  it 
for  the  life  of  an  eagle :  and  that  the  soul  of  Atalante, 
choosing  her  lot  amidst  the  rest,  and,  having  attentively- 
observed  the  great  honors  paid  to  an  athletic  man,  was 
unable  to  pass  by  this  lot,  but  took  it.  Next  to  this,  he 
saw  the  soul  of  Epeus  the  Panopean  going  into  the  nature 
of  a  skillful  workwoman;  and  that  far  off,  among  the 
last,  he  saw  the  soul  of  the  buffoon  Thersites  assuming 
the  ape.  And  that  by  chance  he  saw  the  soul  of  Ulysses, 
who  had  drawn  its  lot  last  of  all,  going  to  make  its 
choice :  that  in  remembrance  of  its  former  toils,  and  tired 
of  ambition,  it  went  about  a  long  time  seeking  the  life 
of  a  private  man  of  no  business,  and  with  difficulty  found 
it  lying  somewhere,  neglected  by  the  rest.  And  that  on 
seeing  this  life,  it  said  that  it  would  have  made  the  same 
choice  even  if  it  had  obtained  the  first  lot,  and  joyfully 
chose  it.  That  in  like  manner  the  souls  of  wild  beasts 
went  into  men,  and  men  again  into  beasts:  the  unjust 
changing  into  wild  beasts,  and  the  just  into  tame ;  and 
that  they  were  blended  by  all  sorts  of  mixtures.  After, 
therefore,  all  the  souls  had  chosen  their  lives  according 
as  they  drew  their  lots,  they  all  went  in  order  to  Lache- 
sis,  and  that  she  gave  to  every  one  the  demon  he  chose, 
and  sent  him  along  with  him  to  be  the  guardian  of  his 
life,  and  the  accomplisher  of  what  he  had  chosen.  That, 
first  of  all,  he  conducts  the  soul  to  Clotho,  to  ratify  under 
her  hand,  and  by  the  whirl  of  the  vortex  of  her  spindle, 
the  destiny  it  had  chosen  by  lot:  and  after  being  with 
her  he  leads  it  back  again  to  the  spinning  of  Atropos, 
who  makes  the  destinies  irreversible.  And  that  from 
hence  they  proceed  directly  under  the  throne  of  Neces- 
sity ;  and  that,  after  he  had  passed  by  it  as  all  the  others 
passed,  they  all  of  them  marched  into  the  plain  of  Lethe 
amid  dreadful  heat  and  scorching,  for  he  said  that  it 
is  void  of  trees  and  everything  that  the  earth  produces; 
that  when  night  came  on,  they  encamped  beside  the 
river  Amelete,  whose  water  no  vessel  contains.  Of  this 
water  all  of  them  must  necessarily  drink  a  certain  cjuaO' 


THE  REPUBLIC  OF  PLATO 


tity,  and  such  as  are  not  kept  by  prudence  drink  more 
than  they  ought,  and  that  he  who  from  time  to  time 
drinks  forgets  everything.  And,  after  they  were  laid 
asleep,  and  midnight  was  approaching,  there  was  thunder, 
and  an  earthquake,  and  they  were  thence  on  a  sudden 
carried  upward,  some  one  way,  and  some  another,  ap- 
proaching to  generation  like  stars.  And  he  himself  was 
forbidden  to  drink  of  the  water.  Where,  however,  and  in 
what  manner,  he  came  into  his  body,  he  was  entirely 
ignorant;  but,  suddenly  looking  up  in  the  morning,  he  saw 
himself  already  laid  on  the  funeral  pile.  And  this  fable, 
Glaucon,  has  been  preserved,  and  is  not  lost,  and  it 
will  preserve  us,  too,  if  we  be  persuaded  thereby,  for 
thus  we  shall  happily  pass  over  the  river  Lethe,  and 
shall  not  pollute  our  souls. 

But  if  the  company  will  be  persuaded  by  me;  con- 
sidering the  soul  to  be  immortal,  and  able  to  bear  all  evil 
and  good,  we  shall  always  persevere  in  the  road  which 
leads  upward,  and  shall  by  all  means  pursue  justice  in 
unison  with  prudence,  that  so  we  may  be  friends  both 
to  ourselves  and  the  gods,  both  while  we  remain  here, 
and  when  we  afterward  receive  its  rewards,  like  victors 
assembled  together;  and  so,  both  here,  and  in  that  jour- 
ney of  a  thousand  years,  which  we  have  described,  we 
shall  be  happy. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  ATHENS 
From  the  original  painting  by  Raphael,  in  the  Vatican. 


THE  STATESMAN 


(V) 


PART  II.— THE  STATESMAN 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION  

THE  STATESMAN  


INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  STATESMAN. 


Of  this  dialogue,  which  is  feigned  to  have  taken  place 
on  the  same  day  as  the  "Sophist,'*  and  may  be  considered 
both  in  manner  and  matter  a  continuation  of  it,  although 
directed  to  a  different  subject,  the  argument  may  be  com- 
prised in  a  very  few  words.  Its  object,  as  stated  toward 
the  close  of  it,  is  to  show  that  the  head  of  the  state,  who 
should  be  a  king,  ought  to  combine  not  only  in  his  own 
person,  but  in  that  of  the  people  over  whom  he  rules, 
the  two  conflicting  characters  of  manliness  and  modera- 
tion. For  by  such  an  union  alone  is  it  possible  to  correct 
the  mischiefs  arising  equally  from  the  excess  and  defi- 
ciency of  energy  in  all  matters  relating  to  the  well-being 
of  the  state. 

To  arrive  at  this  conclusion  Plato  has  thought  proper 
to  give  the  rein  to  his  imagination  instead  of  curbing  it; 
and  he  has  been  compelled  in  consequence  to  apologize 
for  the  prolixity  of  his  discourse;  where  he  was  evidently 
carried  away  with  the  same  desire  to  draw  subtle  dis- 
tinctions in  things  apparently  similar,  as  he  has  done  in 
the  "  Sophist.  For  he  was  anxious,  perhaps,  to  show  his 
acquaintance  with  the  minutiae  of  some  handicraft  trades, 
instead  of  keeping  rather  the  attention  of  the  reader  fixed 
to  a  few  leading  points,  and  putting  down  only 

Quod  bene  proposito  conducat  et  kcereat  apte. 
What  to  the  subject's  fitted  and  sticks  close. 

In  the  midst,  however,  of  this  discursive  matter,  we 
meet  with  a  curious  digression,  where  Plato  has  in  part 
anticipated  the  theory  of  the  geologists  of  the  present  day, 
respecting  the  changes  which  the  earth  has  undergone  at 
different  periods,  together  with  an  allusion  to  a  primaeval 
state,  not  very  unlike  that  recorded  in  Holy  Writ ;  although 
in  neither  case  did  he  probably  do  more  than  put  into 
his  own  words,  what  he  found  in  the  writings  of  preced- 
ing philosophers. 

I  (I) 


2  INTRODUCTION  TO  THE  STATESMAN 


This  dialogue  is  remarkable,  moreover,  for  the  develop- 
ment of  the  notion,  so  contrary  to  that  of  modern  times, 
that  laws  should  be  made  not  so  much  to  chime  in  with 
the  feelings  of  the  people,  as  to  oppose  their  prejudices, 
provided  the  object  of  such  legislation  be  to  improve 
their  moral  and  physical  condition.  But  as  this  end  could 
lot  be  accomplished,  where  the  ruling  power  rests  with 
the  masses,  who,  as  Plato  had  seen  at  Athens,  were 
alternately  ferocious  despots  or  fawning  slaves,  he  sug- 
gested the  propriety  of  establishing  in  conjunction  with 
a  king,  an  aristocracy,  composed  of  persons,  not  superior 
to  their  countrymen  in  wealth,  but  in  virtue,  and  pos- 
sessing, like  the  king,  the  qualities  necessary  for  a  real 
statesman ;  who  should  be  at  once  a  shepherd,  to  look  to 
the  rearing  of  his  charge,  and  a  physician,  to  watch  over 
their  health,  and  a  philosopher,  to  superintend  their 
mental  and  moral  culture. 

As  this  dialogue  has  been  edited  separately  only  by 
Stalbaum  —  for  Fischer's  publication  is,  like  the  rest  of 
that  scholar's  works,  beneath  even  a  passing  notice  —  it 
presents  not  a  few  passages  to  exercise,  and,  as  I  have 
found,  to  baffle  the  ingenuity  of  emendatory  criticism ;  to 
which  Stalbaum  should  have  resorted  rather  than  have 
sought  to  support  the  nonsense  of  a  corrupt  text.  As  re- 
gards, however,  the  matter  of  the  dialogue,  he  has  left 
little  to  desire  in  his  Prolegomena  of  132  8vo  pages;  to 
which  the  reader  is  referred,  who  wishes  to  know  some- 
thing of  what  has  been  written  by  the  more  recent 
scholars  of  Germany  on  questions,  that  will,  it  is  to  be 
feared,  remain  forever  in  their  present  obscurity. 


THE  STATESMAN. 


T 

PERSONS  OF  THE  DIALOGUE. 

SOCRATES,  THEODORUS,  A  GUEST,  AND 
SOCRATES  JUN. 


SOCRATES. 

[i.]  I  OWE  you,  Theodorus,  surely  many  thanks  foi 
my  acquaintance  with  Theaetetus  and  this  guest  to  boot. 

The. —  Perhaps,  Socrates,  you  will  owe  me  thrice  as 
many,  when  they  shall  have  worked  out  for  you  a  states- 
man and  a  philosopher. 

Soc. —  Be  it  so.  But  shall  we  say  we  have  thus  heard 
this  from  you,  the  most  powerful  in  calculations  and 
geometry  ? 

The. —  How,  Socrates? 

Soc.  —  As  having  put  down  each  of  these  men  of  equal 
worth,  who  are  in  value  more  removed  from  each  other 
than  accords  with  the  analogy  of  your  art. 

The.  —  By  our  god  Ammon,  Socrates,  you  have  well  and 
justly,  and  very  rememberingly  reproved  me  for  my 
error  in  calculation.  But  I  will  follow  you  up  about  this 
at  a  future  time.  But  do  not  you,  O  guest,  in  any  respect 
be  faint-hearted  in  gratifying  us ;  but  select  for  us'  either 
first  a  statesman  or  a  philosopher;  and  having  selected 
go  through  (the  discussion). 

Guest. — This  must  be  done,  Theodorus;  for  since  we 
have  put  our  hand  to  this  discussion,  we  must  not  stand 
aloof,  till  we  arrive  at  the  end  of  it.  But  what  must  I 
do  with  Theaetetus  here  ? 

The. — As  regards  what? 

Guest. —  Shall  we  suffer  him  to  rest,  and  take  in  his 
stead  Socrates  here,  his  fellow-combatant?  Or  how  dq 
yot;  advise  ? 

(3) 


4 


THE  STATESMAN 


77^^-.  — Take  him,  as  you  say,  in  his  stead.  For,  both 
being  young  men,  they  will  after  resting,  easily  endure 
every  labor. 

Soc  — And  indeed,  O  guest,  both  of  them  appear  almost 
to  have  an  affinity  with  me  from  some  quarter.  For  you 
say  that  one  of  them  (Theaetetus)  seems  to  resemble  me 
in  the  natural  form  of  his  face;  and  the  appellation  of 
the  other,  being  of  the  same  name  as  myself,  and  his 
address  furnish  a  kind  of  family  connection.  It  is  meet 
then  for  us  to  recognize  always  with  readiness  in  con- 
versation those  of  the  same  kin.  Now  yesterday  I  min- 
gled in  a  conversation  with  Theaetetus,  and  I  have  now 
heard  him  answering;  but  neither  (case  applies)  to 
Socrates  (here).  It  is  meet,  however,  for  us  to  consider 
him  likewise.  Let  him  then  at  some  other  time  answer 
me,  but  at  present  you. 

Guest. —  Be  it  so.  Do  you  Socrates  (junior),  hear  this 
Socrates  ? 

Soc.  j'un.  —  I  do. 

Guest. —  Do  you  then  agree  to  what  he  says? 
Soc.  jun. —  Entirely. 

Guest.  —  It  appears  then  that  your  affairs  will  not  be 
an  hindrance;  and  perhaps  it  is  requisite  for  me  to  be 
much  less  an  hindrance.  But  after  the  sophist  it  is 
necessary,  as  it  appears  to  me,  for  us  to  seek  out  the 
statesman.  [2.]  Tell  me  then  whether  must  we  place 
this  (character)  too  among  the  possessors  of  knowledge, 
or  how  ? 

Soc.  jun. — In  this  way. 

Guest. — We  must  then  divide  the  sciences,  as  (we  did) 
when  we  were  inquiring  into  the  former  (character). 
Soc.  jun. —  Perhaps  so. 

Guest. —  But  yet  the  division  appears  to  me,  Socrates, 
to  be  not  after  the  same  manner. 
Soc.  jun. — Why  not  ? 
Guest. —  But  after  another. 
Soc.  jun. —  It  would  seem  so. 

Guest. — Where  then  can  one  find  the  statesman's  path? 
For  find  it  we  must ;  and  separating  it  from  the  rest,  put 
on  it  the  seal  of  one  (general)  form,  and  on  the  other 
deflections  the  mark  of  another  species;  and  thus  cause- 


THE  STATESMAN 


5 


our  soul  to  conceive  that  all  the  sciences  do  in  reality 
belong  to  two  species. 

Soc.jun. —  I  think,  O  guest,  that  this  is  your  business, 
and  not  mine. 

Guest. —  But  indeed,  Socrates,  it  must  needs  be  yours 
too,  when  it  becomes  apparent  to  us. 
Soc.jun.  —  You  speak  well. 

Gtiest. —  Are  not  then  arithmetic,  and  certain  other 
sciences  allied  to  this,  divested  of  action;  and  do  they 
not  afford  a  subject  of  thought  alone  ? 

Soc.jun. —  It  is  so. 

Guest. —  But  those  which  pertain  to  carpenter's  work, 
and  the  whole  of  handicraft  trades,  possess  a  science,  as 
it  were,  innate  in  their  operations,  and  at  the  same  time 
complete  the  bodies  produced  by  them,  which  had  not  an 
existence  previously. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not  ? 

Guest. —  In  this  manner  then  divide  sciences  in  general, 
calling  one  practical  and  the  other  merely  intellectual. 

Soc.  jun. —  Let  there  be  then  of  one  whole  science  two 
species. 

Guest.  —  Whether  then  shall  we  lay  down  the  statesman, 
the  king,  the  despot,  and  the  head  of  a  household,  and 
call  them  all  by  one  name  ?  Or  shall  we  say  there  are 
as  many  sciences  as  have  been  their  mentioned  names  ? 
Or  rather  follow  me  hither. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Whither  ? 

Guest. —  On  this  road.  If  a  private  person  is  able  to 
give  advice  sufficiently  well  to  any  of  the  public  phy- 
sicians, is  it  not  necessary  for  him  to  be  called  by  the 
name  of  the  art,  the  same  as  he  is,  to  whom  he  gives 
advice  ? 

Soc.  jun. — Yes. 

Guest. — What  then,  whatever  private  person  is  skilled 
in  giving  advice  to  the  king  of  a  country,  shall  we  not 
say  that  he  possesses  the  science,  which  the  ruler  him- 
self ought  to  possess  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  We  shall. 

Guest. — But  surely  the  science  of  a  true  king  is  a  kingly 
(science). 
Soc.  jun. — Yes. 


6 


THE  STATESMAN 


Guest.  —  And  may  not  he,  who  possesses  this  science, 
whether  he  is  a  private  man,  or  a  king,  be  in  every  re- 
spect rightly  called,  according  to  this  art,  king-like  ? 

Soc  jiin.  —  Justly  so. 

Guest. —  And  are  not  the  head  of  a  household  and  a 
despot  the  same  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  But  what,  will  the  size  of  an  extensive  house- 
hold or  the  swollen  form  of  a  small  state  make  any 
diflference  as  regards  the  government  ? 

Soc.  ju7i. —  Not  at  all. 

Guest. —  It  is  evident  then,  what  is  indeed  the  thing  we 
were  just  now  inquiring,  that  there  is  one  science  re- 
specting all  these.  But  whether  any  one  calls  it  the  science 
of  a  king,  a  statesman,  or  a  family  man,  let  us  not  differ 
about  it. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Why  should  we? 

[3.]  Gtiest. — This  too  is  evident,  that  each  individual  king 
has  in  his  hands,  and  the  whole  of  his  body,  some  little 
power  toward  retaining  his  rule,  as  compared  with  the 
intelligence  and  strength  of  his  soul. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  evident. 

Guest. —  Are  you  willing  then  for  us  to  say  that  a  king 
is  more  allied  to  intellectual  than  to  manual  and  wholly 
practical  science  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  We  will  then  put  together  in  the  same  (class) 
statesmanship  and  a  statesman,  kingship  and  a  king,  as 
being  all  one  thing. 

Soc.  jun.  —  It  is  evident. 

Guest. —  Shall  we  not  proceed  then  in  an  orderly  man- 
ner, if  after  this  we  divide  the  intellectual  science  ? 
Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  Attend,  then,  and  inform  me  whether  we  can 
perceive  any  point  of  union  ? 
■  Soc.  jun. — Tell  me  of  what  kind. 

Guest. —  Of  this  kind.  We  have  a  certain  calculating 
art. 

Soc.  jun. — Yes. 

Guest. — And  this  I  think  entirely  belongs  to  the  intellec- 
tual arts. 


THE  STATESMAN 


7 


Soc.  j'un. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  Shall  we  concede  to  the  calculating  art,  that 
knows  the  difference  in  numbers,  any  thing  more  than 
that  it  distinguishes  things,  the  subjects  of  intellect  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  should  we? 

Guest. —  For  every  architect  is  not  a  workman  himself, 
but  is  the  ruler  over  workmen. 
Soc.  jun. — Yes. 

Guest.  —  And  he  imparts  indeed  intellect,  but  not  the 
work  by  hand. 

Soc.  jun. — Just  so. 

Guest. —  He  may  justly  then  be  said  to  have  a  share  in 
intellectual  science. 
Soc.  jun. —  Entirely. 

Guest. — And  for  him  I  think  it  is  fitting,  after  he  has 
passed  a  judgment,  not  to  have  an  end,  nor  to  be  freed, 
as  the  calculator  was  freed  (from  doing  more),  but  to 
command  every  workman  (to  do )  that  which  is  suited  to 
him,  until  they  shall  have  worked  out  what  has  been 
commanded. 

Soc.  jun. —  Right. 

Guest. —  Are  not  then  all  such  as  these,  and  such  as 
are  consequent  upon  the  calculating  art,  intellectual  ? 
And  do  not  these  two  genera  differ  from  each  other  in 
judgment  and  commandment  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  They  appear  to  do  so. 

Guest. —  If  then  we  should  divide  the  whole  of  the  in- 
tellectual science  into  two  parts,  and  call  the  one  man- 
datory, and  the  other  judicial,  should  we  not  say  that 
we  have  made  a  careful  division  ? 

Soc.  jun. — Yes,  according  to  my  mind. 

Guest. —  But  for  those,  who  do  any  thing  in  common,  it 
is  delightful  to  be  of  one  mind. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  As  far  then  as  we  participate  on  this  point, 
we  must  bid  farewell  to  the  opinions  of  others. 
[4.]  Soc.  jun.  —  Why  not? 

Guest. — Come,  then,  inform  me  in  which  of  these  arts 
we  must  place  the  kingly  character.  Must  we  place  him 
in  the  judicial  art,  as  some  spectator  ?  Or  rather,  shall 
we  place  him  in  the  commanding  art,  as  being  a  despot  ? 


8 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun. —  How  not  rather  in  this  ? 

Guest. — We  may  consider  again  the  commanding'  art, 
whether  it  stands  in  any  way  apart.  For  it  appears  to 
me,  that  as  the  art  of  a  huckster  is  separated  from  his, 
who  sells  his  own  goods,  so  is  the  genus  of  a  king  from 
the  genus  of  public  criers. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  so? 

Guest. —  Hucksters,  having  received  the  previously  sold 
works  of  others,  afterward  sell  them  again  themselves. 
Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. — The   tribe  of  criers   too,   after  receiving  the 
thoughts  of  strangers,  enjoins  them  again  to  others. 
Soc.  jun. — Most  true. 

Guest. —  What  then,  shall  we  mix  in  the  same  (class) 
the  king-art,  and  that  of  the  interpreting,  ordering,  proph- 
esying, and  public-crying,  and  many  other  arts  allied  to 
these,  all  which  have  this  in  common  that  they  command  ? 
Or  are  you  willing  that,  as  we  just  now  instituted  a 
resemblance  (in  things),  we  should  make  a  resemblance 
in  the  name  likewise  ?  since  the  genus  of  those,  who  rule 
their  own  concerns,  is  nearly  without  a  name ;  and  shall 
we  so  divide  these,  by  placing  the  kingly  genus  among 
those,  who  command  their  own  concerns,  and  by  neglect- 
ing every  thing  else,  leave  any  one  to  put  another  name 
on  them  ?  For  our  method  was  ( adopted )  for  the  sake  of 
a  ruler,  and  not  for  its  contrary. 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

[5.]  Guest. —  Since  then  this  stands  at  a  moderate  dis- 
tance apart  from  those,  and  is  separated  from  that,  which 
is  foreign,  into  that  which  is  domestic,  it  is  necessary  to  di- 
vide this  again,  if  we  have  yet  any  yielding  section  in  this. 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. — And,  indeed,  it  appears  that  we  have.    But  fol- 
low me  and  divide. 
Soc.  jun. — Whither  ? 

Guest. —  Shall  we  not  find  that  all  such  as  we  conceive 
to  be  rulers,  do,  by  making  use  of  a  command,  give  a 
command  for  the  sake  of  producing  something  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. — And,  indeed,  it  is  not  at  all  difficult  for  all  things 
that  are  produced,  to  receive  a  twofold  division. 


THE  STATESMAN 


9 


Soc.  Jun.  —  In  what  way? 

Guest. —  Some  among  all  of  them  are  animated,  and 
others  are  inanimate. 
Soc.jun.  —  They  are  so. 

Guest.  —  If  we  wish  to  cut  the  portion  of  intelligence,  that 
has  a  commanding-  power  over  these  very  things,  we  will 
cut  it. 

Soc.  jun. — According  to  what? 

Guest. —  By  assigning  one  part  over  the  generation  of 
inanimate  things,  and  the  other  over  the  generation  of 
animated.  And  thus  the  whole  will  be  divided  into  two 
parts. 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  One  part  then  let  us  put  aside,  and  take  up 
again  the  other;  and  after  taking  it  up,  divide  the  whole 
into  two  parts. 

Soc.  jun. —  But  which  of  these  do  you  say  is  to  be  re- 
sumed ? 

Guest. —  By  all  means,  that  which  has  a  command  over 
animals.  For  it  is  not  the  province  of  the  kingly  science 
to  have  a  command  over  things  inanimate,  like  the  science 
of  architecture ;  but,  being  of  a  more  noble  nature,  over 
animals;  and  it  ever  possesses  a  power  relating  to  such 
very  things. 

Soc.  jim. —  Right. 

Guest. —  (With  respect  to)  the  generation  and  nurture 
of  animals,  a  person  may  see  the  former  as  single-feeding, 
but  the  latter  as  the  common-feeding  of  the  nurslings  in 
herds. 

Soc.  jun. —  Right. 

Guest. —  But  we  shall  find  that  the  statesman  is  not  a 
breeder  of  his  own  property,  like  an  ox-driver,  or  some 
horse-currier;  but  is  rather  like  the  person  who  rears 
horses  and  oxen. 

Soc.  jun. — What  has  been  just  said  seems  to  be  the  fact. 

Guest.  —  Whether  then  (with  respect  to)  the  nurture  of 
animals,  shall  we  call  the  common-rearing  of  all  together 
a  herd-rearing,  or  a  certain  general-rearing. 

Soc.  jun. — Whichever  may  happen  in  the  discourse. 

[6.]  Gtiest. — You  (have  said)  well,  Socrates.  And  if  j^ou 
avoid  paying  too  serious  an  attention  to  names,  you  will 


lO 


THE  STATESMAN 


appear  in  old  age  to  be  more  rich  in  prudence.  But  now 
we  must  do  as  you  recommended.  But  do  you  under- 
stand how  some  one  will,  having  divided  the  herd-rearing 
art  into  two,  cause,  what  is  now  sought  for  in  a  double, 
to  be  sought  for  then  in  halves  ? 

Soc.  j'un.  —  I  shall  be  eager  (to  do  so):  and  it  appears  to 
me  that  there  is  one  rearing  of  men,  and  another  of  beasts. 

Guest. —  You  have  divided  in  every  respect  most  readily 
and  courageously.  However  (we  must  be  careful),  to  the 
utmost  of  our  power  not  to  suffer  hereafter  this. 

Soc.  jun. —  What  ? 

Guest.  —  That  we  do  not  take  away  one  small  part  as 
applicable  to  many  and  great  parts,  nor  yet  without  a 
species ;  but  let  it  always  have  at  the  same  time  a  species. 
For  it  is  very  well  to  separate  immediately  the  thing 
sought  for  from  all  the  rest,  if  the  separation  be  rightly 
made;  just  as  you  did  a  little  before,  through  conceiving 
the  division  to  be  rightly  made,  hasten  on,  seeing  that 
the  discourse  was  tending  to  man.  But,  my  friend,  it  is 
not  safe  to  divide  with  subtlety;  but  it  is  more  safe  to 
proceed  in  the  middle  by  dividing  (continually);  for  thus 
will  one  more  (readily)  meet  with  forms  ( of  existence). 
But  the  whole  of  this  relates  to  our  inquiries. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  say  you  this,  O  guest? 

Guest. —  I  must  endeavor  to  speak  yet  more  clearly, 
through  a  kind  feeling  toward  j-our  disposition,  Socrates. 
But  it  is  impossible  in  the  subject  at  hand  to  show  what 
is  now  said  in  a  manner  wanting  in  nothing;  still  we 
must  endeavor,  for  the  sake  of  perspicuity,  to  carry  on  the 
inquiry  a  little  further. 

Soc.  Jun.  —  In  what  respect  then  do  you  say  we  have, 
by  dividing,  just  now  not  rightly  done  ? 

Guest. —  In  this  respect;  that,  should  any  one  attempt 
to  give  a  twofold  division  to  the  human  genus,  he  would 
divide,  in  the  way  that  the  majority  here  divide.  For 
by  separating  the  Grecian  genus,  as  one  apart  from  all, 
they  give  to  all  the  rest,  who  are  innumerable,  unmixed, 
and  not  speaking  the  same  language  with  each  other, 
one  name,  that  of  a  Barbarian  race ;  and  through  this 
one  name  they  fancy  the  race  itself  to  be  one ;  or  as  if 
some  one^  thinking  that  number  should  be  divided  into 


THE  STATESMAN" 


two  species,  should,  after  cutting-  off  ten  thousand  from 
all  numbers,  put  it  aside  as  one  species,  and,  giving  one 
name  to  all  the  rest,  should  think  that,  through  that 
appellation,  this  genus  will  become  separate  and  different 
from  the  other.  He  however  would  make  in  a  more 
beautiful  manner,  and  more  according  to  species,  and  a 
twofold  division,  who  should  divide  number  into  even  and 
odd,  and  the  human  species  into  male  and  female ;  and, 
after  arranging  the  Lydians  or  Phrygians,  or  some  other 
nations,  should  then  separate  them  into  wholes,  when  he 
is  incapable  of  finding  the  genus,  and  at  the  same  time 
the  species  of  each  of  the  divided  portions. 

[7.]  Soc.  j'un. —  Most  right.  But  (explain),  O  guest, 
this  very  thing  —  how  can  any  one  rather  clearly  know 
that  genus  and  species  are  not  the  same,  but  different 
from  each  other  ? 

Guest. —  O  Socrates,  thou  best  of  men,  thou  commandest 
no  trifling  thing.  Already  have  we  wandered  further  from 
our  proposed  discourse  than  is  fitting;  and  yet  you  order 
us  to  wander  still  further.  Now  then  let  us,  as  is  rea- 
sonable, turn  back  again;  and  hereafter  we  will  at 
leisure  pursue  this  point,  as  having  come  upon  the 
track.  Do  not,  however,  by  any  means  guard  against 
this,  that  you  have  heard  from  me  this  point  clearly 
determined. 

Soc.  jun. —  What  ? 

Guest.  —  That  species  and  part  are  different  from  each 
other. 

Soc.  jun. —  Why  (say  you)  so? 

Guest. — When  anything  is  a  species  of  some  thing,  it 
is  necessary  for  it  to  be  a  part  of  the  thing  of  which  it 
is  said  to  be  the  species :  but  there  is  no  necessity  for  a 
part  to  be  a  species.  Always  consider  me,  therefore, 
Socrates,  as  asserting  this  rather  than  that. 

Soc.  Jun. —  Be  it  so. 

Guest. —  But  tell  me  that  which  is  after  this. 
Soc.  Jun. — What? 

Guest. —  The  point  of  digression  which  has  brought  us 
hither.  For  I  think  it  was  especially  at  that  point,  when, 
on  your  being  asked  how  we  must  divide  herd-rearing, 
you  answered  very  readily,  that  there  were  two  kinds  of 


THE  STATESMAN 


animals,  the  one  of  man  and  the  other  of  brutes  taken 
altogether. 

Soc.  jun. — True. 

Guest.  —  And  you  then  appeared  to  me,  after  taking 
away  a  part,  to  think  that  you  ought  to  leave  the  re- 
mainder as  one  genus  of  all  (brutes),  because  you  could 
give  to  them  all  the  same  name,  by  calling  them  brutes. 

Soc.  jun. —  Such  was  the  case. 

Guest. —  But  this,  O  most  courageous  of  men,  is  just 
as  if  some  other  prudent  animal,  such  as  seems  to  be  the 
crane,  or  some  other  animal  of  a  similar  kind,  should,  in 
the  same  manner  as  you  do,  oppose  the  cranes,  as  one 
race,  to  all  other  animals,  and  make  itself  an  object  of 
respect;  and  putting  all  the  rest  together  with  men  into 
one  race,  call  them  perhaps  nothing  else  but  brutes. 
Let  us  then  endeavor  to  avoid  everything  whatsoever  of 
this  kind. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  ? 

Guest.- — -By  not  dividing  every  genus  of  animals,  that 
we  may  suffer  the  less. 

Soc.  jun. —  For  there  is  no  necessity. 
Guest. —  For  we  then  erred  in  this  way. 
Soc.  jun. —  In  what? 

Guest.  —  Such  part  of  intellectual  science  as  related  to 
commanding  was  (said)  by  us  to  be  of  the  animal-rearing 
kind,  as  regards  gregarious  animals.    Was  it  not  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  It  was. 

Guest. — The  whole  animal  genus,  therefore,  was  even 
then  divided  into  the  tame  and  wild.  For  those  animals 
that  have  a  nature  to  become  gentle,  are  called  tame; 
but  those  that  have  not,  are  (called)  wild. 

Soc.  jun. —  Correctly. 

Guest. —  But  the  science,  of  which  we  are  in  the  hunt, 
was  and  is  in  the  case  of  tame  animals,  and  is  to  be 
sought  for  among  the  gregarious  rearlings. 

Soc.  jun. —  Yes. 

Guest. —  Let  us  then  not  divide,  as  formerly,  looking 
to  all  animals,  nor  with  haste,  so  that  we  may  quickly 
arrive  at  state-science.  For  this  has  caused  us  to  suffer 
even  now  according  to  the  proverb.  — 

Soc.  jun. —  What  ? 


THE  STATESMAN 


13 


Guest. —  By  not  well  dividing-  quietly,  to  complete  (the 
task)  more  slowly. 

Soc.jun. —  And  it  has,  O  guest,  properly  caused  (us  to 
suffer). 

[8.]  Guest. —  Be  it  so  then.  But  let  us  again  from  the 
beginning  endeavor  to  divide  the  common-rearing  (of  ani- 
mals). For  perhaps  the  discourse  itself,  being  brought 
to  a  conclusion,  will  more  clearly  unfold  what  you  desire. 
Biit  tell  me — 

Soc.  jun. — What  ? 

Guest. —  This;  if  indeed  you  have  frequently  heard  it 
from  certain  persons.  For  I  do  not  think  you  have  met 
with  the  tame-fish  places  in  the  Nile,  or  in  the  royal 
lakes.  But  perhaps  you  have  seen  the  taming  of  these 
in  (artificial)  fountains. 

Soc.jun. —  I  have  seen  these  frequently,  and  I  have 
heard  of  those  from  many. 

Guest. — You  have  likewise  heard  and  believe  that  geese 
and  cranes  are  reared,  though  you  have  never  wandered 
about  the  Thessalian  plains. 

Soc.jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  On  this  account  I  have  asked  you  all  these 
questions,  because  the  rearing  of  herds  of  animals  is 
partly  of  those  moving  in  the  water,  and  partly  on  dry 
land. 

Soc.jun. —  It  is  so. 

Guest. —  Does  it  not  then  appear  to  you  likewise,  that 
we  ought  to  cut  in  two  the  common-rearing  science, 
distributing  to  each  of  them  its  own  part,  and  call  the 
one  a  rearing-in-moisture,  and  the  other  a  rearing-on- 
dry-land. 

Soc.jun. —  (It  does  so  appear)  to  me. 

Guest.  —  But  we  will  not  in  the  same  manner  inquire 
to  which  of  these  arts  kingf-science  belongs.  For  it  is 
evident  to  every  one. 

Soc.jun. — How  not? 

Guest. — And  every  one  can  separate  the  dry-rearing 
portion  of  the  herd-rearing. 
Soc.  jun. —  How  ? 

Guest. —  Into  the  flying  and  walking-on-foot. 
Soc.jun. —  Most  true. 


THE  STATESMAN 


Guest. —  But  what  of  state-science,  must  it  be  inquired 
whether  it  relates  to  the  walking-on-foot  ?  Or  do  you 
not  think,  that  the  most  stupid  person,  so  to  say,  would 
imagine  so  ? 

Soc.jun. —  I  do. 

Guest. —  But  it  is  requisite  to  show  that  the  art  of  rear- 
ing foot-walking  (animals)  is,  as  number  was  just  now,  cut 
into  two  parts. 

Soc.  Jun. —  This  is  evident. 

Guest.  —  And  yet  to  the  part,  to  which  our  discourse  has 
led  us  on,  there  seem  to  be  some  two  paths  extending 
themselves;  the  one  quicker,  by  being  divided,  a  small 
part  as  compared  with  a  large  one ;  but  the  other  longer, 
from  preserving  rather  the  precept,  which  we  mentioned 
before,  that  we  ought  to  cut  as  much  as  possible  through 
the  middle.  It  is  in  our  power  then  to  proceed  by  either 
of  the  paths  we  may  wish. 

Soc.  Jun. —  Is  it  then  impossible  to  proceed  by  both? 

Guest. —  What,  by  both  at  once,  O  wonderful  youth? 
Alternately,  however,  it  is  plain  the  thing  is  possible. 

Soc.  Jun. —  I  choose  then  both  alternately. 

Guest.  —  The  thing  is  easy;  since  short  is  the  remainder 
(of  the  road).  In  the  beginning,  indeed,  and  middle  of 
our  journey  the  command  would  have  been  difficult. 
But  now,  since  this  seems  good,  let  us  first  proceed  by 
the  longer  road.  For,  as  we  are  fresh,  we  shall  more 
easily  journey  through  it.    But  do  you  look  to  the  division. 

[9.]  Soc.  Jwi. —  Speak  it. 

Guest.  —  Of  such  tame  animals  as  are  gregarious,  the 
foot-walking  have  been  divided  by  us  according  to  nature. 
Soc.  Jun.  —  What  (nature)? 

Guest.  —  By  some  of  their  race  being  hornless  and  others 
horned. 

Soc.  Jun. —  So  it  appears. 

Guest. —  Divide  then  the  art  of  rearing  foot-walking 
animals,  and  assign  to  each  part,  making  use  of  reason. 
For  should  you  wish  to  name  them,  the  thing  will  be- 
come complicated  more  than  is  fitting. 

Soc.  Jun. —  How  then  must  one  speak  (of  them)? 

Guest. —  Thus.  Of  the  science  of  rearing  foot-walking 
animals,  divided   into   two   parts,  let    one  portion  be 


THE  STATESMAN 


assigned  to  the  horned  part  of  the  herd,  but  the  other  to 
the  hornless. 

Soc.  jun. —  Let  this  be  so  said:  for  they  have  been 
sufficiently  shown  to  be  so. 

Guest. —  Now  then  the  king  is  evidently  the  shepherd 
over  a  flock  of  animals  deprived  of  horns. 

Soc,  jun. —  For  how  is  he  not  evident? 

Guest. —  Breaking  then  this  (herd)  into  portions,  let  us 
endeavor  to  assign  the  result  to  him  (the  king). 

Soc.  Entirely  so. 

Guest.  —  Whether  then  are  you  willing  for  us  to  divide 
it  (the  herd)  by  the  cloven,  or,  what  is  called,  the  solid 
hoof  ?  Or  by  a  common  or  individual  generation  ?  For 
you  understand. 

Soc.  jun.  —  What? 

Guest. —  That  the  race  of  horses  and  asses  naturally 
procreate  with  each  other. 
Soc.  jun. —  It  does. 

Guest. —  But  the  other  still  remaining  portion  of  the 
smooth-haired  herd  of  tame  animals  is  unmixed  in  their 
generation  with  each  other. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  But  whether  does  the  statesman  appear  to 
take  care  of  animals  having  a  common,  or  individual 
generation  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  evident  of  the  unmixed  (generation). 
Guest. — We  must  then,  as  it  seems,  divide  this,  as  those 
before,  into  two  parts. 
Soc.  jun. — Yes;  we  must. 

Guest. —  But  we  have  cut  into  minute  portions  nearly 
every  tame  and  gregarious  animal,  except  two  genera. 
For  it  is  not  fit  to  rank  the  genus  of  dogs  among  gre- 
garious cattle. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  not.  But  in  what  manner  shall  we 
divide  these  two  ? 

Guest. —  In  that,  by  which  it  is  just  for  you  and  Theaste- 
tus  to  divide  them,  since  you  are  handling  the  science  of 
geometry. 

Soc.  jun. —  In  what  manner? 

Guest. —  By  the  diameter,  and  again  by  the  diameter 
of  the  diameter. 


i6 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun. —  How  say  you  ? 

Guest.  —  Is  the  nature,  which  the  race  of  us  men  pos- 
sesses, adapted  to  locomotion  in  any  other  way  than  as 
a  diameter,  which  is  two  feet  in  power  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  In  no  other  way. 

Guest. —  Moreover  the  nature  of  the  remaining  genus  is 
again  according  to  the  power  of  our  power,  a  diameter, 
if  it  naturally  consists  of  twice  two  feet. 

Soc.  jun. —  Undoubtedly.  And  now  I  nearly  understand 
what  you  wish  to  show. 

Guest. — But  in  addition  to  these,  do  we  perceive,  Soc- 
rates, something  else  belonging  to  those  having  a  repu- 
tation for  laughter,  which  happened  to  us  in  making  the 
former  division  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  What  is  that? 

Guest.  —  This,  our  human  race,  sharing  the  same  lot 
and  running  the  same  course  with  a  race  the  most  gen- 
erous and  most  handy  of  existing  (animals). 

Soc.  jmi. —  I  perceive  it  happening  very  absurdly  too. 

Guest. —  Is  it  not  fit  that  the  slowest  things  should  ar- 
rive last  of  all  ? 

Soc.  jim. —  It  is. 

Guest.  —  But  we  do  not  perceive  this,  that  a  king 
appears  still  more  ridiculous,  when  running  together  with 
the  herd,  and  performing  his  course  in  conjunction  with 
him,  who  is  exercised  in  the  best  manner  with  respect 
to  a  tractable  life. 

Soc.  ju7i. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  For  now,  Socrates,  that  is  more  apparent,  which 
was  said  by  us  in  our  search  for  a  sophist. 
Soc.  jun. —  What  is  that? 

Guest.  —  That  in  such  a  method  of  discourse  there  is  no 
greater  care  for  what  is  venerable,  than  what  is  not,  nor 
does  it  prefer  the  small  to  the  great,  but  always  accom- 
plishes that  which  according  to  itself  is  most  true. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  appears  so. 

Guest.  —  After  this,  that  you  may  not  anticipate  me  by 
asking  what  is  the  shorter  road  to  the  definition  of  a 
king,  shall  I  traverse  it  the  first  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  By  all  means. 

Guest. —  I  say  then,  that  we  ought  to  have  divided 


THE  STATESMAN 


17 


forthwith  the  foot-walking-  genus  into  the  biped  and 
quadruped;  and,  seeing  that  the  human  race  shared  the 
same  lot  with  the  flying  genus  alone,  we  ought  to  have 
again  divided  the  two-footed  into  the  wingless  and 
winged ;  and  this  division  having  been  made,  and  the 
art  shown,  which  is  the  rearer  of  men,  we  ought  to  have 
brought  forward  and  placed  over  it  the  statesman  and 
kingly  character,  like  a  charioteer,  and  given  him  the 
reins  of  the  city,  in  consequence  of  this  science  being 
peculiarly  his  own. 

Soc.  jmi.  —  You  have  (spoken)  beautifully,  and  given  me 
an  account,  as  it  were,  of  a  debt,  and  added  a  digression, 
by  way  of  interest,  and  completed  (the  transaction). 

[lo.]  Guest. —  Come  then,  let  us,  going  back  to  the  be- 
ginning, connect  with  the  end  the  discourse  concerning 
the  name  of  the  statesman's  art. 

Soc.  jun.  —  By  all  means. 

Guest. —  One  part  then  of  intellectual  science  was  at 
the  beginning  the  commanding;  and  the  part  assimilated 
to  this  was  called  the  self-commanding.  Again,  of  the 
self-commanding,  the  rearing  of  animals  was  cut  off,  as 
not  the  smallest  part  of  the  genera;  and  of  the  rearing 
of  animals,  the  rearing  of  herds  was  a  species ;  and  of  the 
rearing  of  herds,  (a  part)  was  the  care  of  foot-walking 
animals;  and  of  the  care  of  foot- walking  animals,  the 
science  of  rearing  the  hornless  race  was  especially  cut 
off.  But  of  this  again,  it  is  necessary  to  connect  a  part, 
not  less  than  the  triple,  if  any  one  is  desirous  of  bring- 
ing it  under  one  name,  by  calling  it  the  science  of 
tending  an  unmixed  genius.  But  a  section  from  this, 
which  alone  remains,  and  which  rears  men,  as  being  a 
biped  flock,  is  the  part  which  has  been  just  now  ex- 
plored, and  is  called,  at  one  and  the  same  time,  the 
kingly  and  statesmanly  kind. 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. — Do  you  then,   Socrates,   think   that   this  has 
been,  as  you  say,  really  done  well  ? 
Soc.  jun. — What  ? 

Guest. —  That  the  thing  proposed  has  been  in  every  re- 
spect sufficiently  discussed.  Or  has  our  investigation  been 
particularly  deficient  in  this  very  thing,  that  the  account 


THE  STATESMAN 


has  been  given  in  words,  but  not  in  all  respects  worked 
out  to  the  end  ? 

Soc.  j'un. —  How  say  you? 

Guest.  —  I  will  endeavor  to  explain  to  ourselves  more 
clearly  what  I  am  thinking  of. 
Soc.  j'un. —  Say  it. 

Guest.  —  There  is  then  of  many  herdsmen's  arts,  that 
have  appeared  to  us,  one,  the  statesman's,  and  the  guard- 
ianship of  some  one  herd. 

Soc.  jun.  —  There  is. 

Guest. —  This  our  discourse  has  defined  to  be  neither 
the  rearer  of  horses,  nor  of  other  animals,  but  to  be  the 
science  of  rearing  men  in  common. 

[ii.]  Soc.  Jun. — Jt  did  so. 

Guest. — Now  let  us  see  what  is  the  difference  between 
all  herdsmen  and  kings. 
Soc.  Jun. —  What  is  it? 

Guest. —  If  any  one  of  the  rest,  possessing'  the  name  of 
another  art,  says  and  pretends  to  be  the  rearer  in  com- 
mon of  the  herd,  ( what  should  we  say )  ? 

Soc.  Jun. —  How  say  you? 

Guest. — Just  as  if  all  merchants,  and  husbandmen,  and 
purveyors  of  food,  and  besides  these,  teachers  of  gym- 
nastics, and  the  genus  of  physicians,  should,  you  know 
that  by  their  speeches  oppose  altogether  the  herdsmen  of 
the  human  race,  whom  we  have  called  statesmen,  and 
assert  that  it  is  their  care  to  rear  men,  and  not  only  men 
herded  together,  but  even  the  rulers  themselves  — 

Soc.  Jun.  —  Would  they  not  rightly  say? 

Guest. —  Perhaps  so.  And'  we  will  consider  this  too. 
We  know  that  no  one  will  contend  with  a  herdsman  about 
things  of  this  kind;  since  he  is  himself  the  rearer,  him- 
self the  physician,  and  himself,  as  it  were,  the  bridesman 
(of  the  herd),  and  is  alone  skilled  in  the  midwife's  art 
respecting  the  birth  and  delivery  of  the  produce.  No 
one,  besides,  is  better  able,  by  such  sport  and  music  as 
cattle  can,  by  their  nature,  share  in,  to  console  and 
soothe,  and  render  gentle,  both  with  instruments  and  the 
naked  mouth,  handling  in  the  best  way  the  music  of  his 
flock.  And  the  same  may  be  said  of  other  herdsmen. 
Or  may  it  not  ? 


THE  STATESMAN 


'9 


Soc.  jun. —  Most  right. 

Guest. —  How  then  will  our  discourse  respecting  a  king 
appear  to  be  right  and  entire,  when  we  place  him  alone, 
as  the  herdsman  and  rearer  of  the  human  herd,  selecting 
him  alone  owX.  of  ten  thousand  others  contending  with 
him  ? 

Soc.  j'lin. —  By  no  means. 

Guest. —  Did  we  not  then  a  little  before  very  properly 
fear,  when  we  suspected,  lest  we  should  only  speak  of  a 
certain  figure  of  a  king,  and  not  perfectly  work  out  the 
statesman,  until  by  taking  away  those,  who  were  diffused 
around  him,  and  laid  claim  to  a  fellow-rearing,  and,  by 
separating  him  from  them,  we  should  exhibit  him  alone 
and  pure  ? 

Soc.  pm. —  Most  rightly  (did  we  fear). 

Guest. —  This  then,  Socrates,  must  be  done  by  us,  un- 
less we  are  about  to  bring  disgrace  upon  our  discourse 
at  its  end. 

Soc.  Jun. —  But  this  at  least  must  by  no  means  be  done. 
[i2.]  Guest. —  We  must  then   march  by  another  road 
again  from  another  beginning. 
Soc.  jun. —  By  what  road? 

Guest. —  By  mixing  up  almost  some  merriment.  For  it 
is  requisite  to  make  use  of  the  prolix  portion  of  a  long 
story,  and,  as  regards  what  still  remains,  to  take  away, 
as  we  did  before,  always  a  part  from  a  part,  till  we 
arrive  at  the  summit  of  the  inquiry.    Must  we  not  do  so  ? 

Soc.  Jun. —  Certainly. 

Guest. —  Give  then,  as  children  do,  entirely  your  atten- 
tion to  my  story ;  (for)  you  are  not  altogether  flying  from 
many  years  of  merriment. 

Soc.  Jun. —  Relate  it. 

Guest. — Of  the  things  then  said  of  old,  there  have  been, 
and  will  be  still,  many  others  (preserved)  and  the  prodigy 
likewise  relating  to  the  reported  contests  between  Atreus 
and  Thyestes.  For  you  have  surely  heard  and  remember 
what  is  then  said  to  have  happened. 

Soc.  Jun. —  Perhaps  you  mean  the  prodigy  respecting 
the  golden  ewe. 

Guest.  —  By  no  means;  but  respecting  the  change  in  the 
rising  and  setting  of  the  sun,  and  of  the  other  constelU- 


20 


THE  STATESMAN 


tions,  how  that  they  set  then  at  the  very  place  from 
whence  they  now  rise,  and  rose  from  the  opposite 
one;*  and  that  the  deity  gave  a  testimony  in  favor  of 
Atreus,  and  changed  (the  heavens)  into  the  present  figure. 
Soc.  jun.  —  This,  too,  is  reported. 

Guest. — And  we  have  likewise  heard  from  many  of  the 
kingdom  over  which  Kronos  (Saturn)  ruled. 

Soc.  jun. — We  have  from  very  many. 

Guest. — And  that  the  men  of  former  times  were  pro- 
duced earthborn,  and  not  begotten  from  each  other  ? 

Soc.  Jun. — This,  too,  is  one  of  the  things  said  of  old. 

Guest. — All  these  things  then  arose  from  the  same 
circumstance,  and  in  addition  to  these  ten  thousand 
others,  and  still  more  wonderful.  But,  through  the  length 
of  time,  some  of  them  have  become  extinct,  and  others 
are  told  in  a  dispersed  manner,  separate  from  each  other. 
But  that  which  is  the  cause  of  this  to  all  these,  no  per- 
son  has  told  as  yet;  and  it  must  be  now  told;  for  being 
told  it  will  be  something  conspicuous  for  showing  forth 
the  king. 

[13.]  Soc.  jun.  —  You  have  spoken  most  beautifully.  Say 
on  then,  and  omit  nothing. 

Guest. —  Hear,  then.  This  universe  the  deity  does  at 
one  time  conduct  himself,  as  it  proceeds,  and  with  it  rolls 
on ;  but  at  another  leaves  it,  when  its  revolutions  shall  have 
received  the  measure  of  the  fitting  time ;  and  it  is  then 
brought  back  again  of  its  own  accord  to  a  contrary  state, 
being  a  thing  of  life,  and  having  a  share  of  intelligence 
from  him,  who  put  it  together  at  its  outset.  Now  this 
movement  backward  has  been  of  necessity  implanted  in  it 
through  this. 

Soc.  jun. —  Through  what  ? 

Guest.  —  To  subsist  always  according  to  the  same,  and 
in  a  similar  manner,  and  to  be  the  same,  belongs  to  the 
most  divine  of  all  things  alone.  But  the  nature  of  body 
is  not  of  this  order.  But  that,  which  we  have  called  heaven 
and  the  world,  has  a  share  in  many  and  blessed  (gifts) 
from  the  producing  ( cause ) ;  moreover,  it  has  had  a  share 

*In  this  solution  of  the  story  is  to  be  found  the  germ  of  the  notion  of 
modem  geologists  that  the  position  of  the  poles  of  the  earth  has  beer; 
changed  at  some  veryj^remote  period. 


THE  STATESMAN 


21 


of  body ;  from  whence  it  cannot  be  entirely  without  a  share 
of  change ;  nevertheless,  according  to  its  power  it  is  moved 
as  much  as  possible  in  the  same,  and  according  to  the 
same,  by  one  impetus.  Hence  it  is  allotted  a  revolving 
movement,  as  being  the  smallest  change  in  its  motion. 
But  scarcely  anything  is  able  to  turn  itself  by  itself, 
except  that  which  is  the  leader  of  all  things  that  are 
moved.  And  it  is  not  lawful  for  this  to  move  at  one  time 
in  one  way,  and  at  another  in  a  contrary  way.  From 
all  this  then  we  must  say,  that  the  world  does  not  always 
cause  itself  to  revolve,  nor  that  the  whole  is  always  made 
by  the  deity  to  revolve  in  two  and  contrary  revolutions: 
nor,  again,  that  some  two  deities,  whose  thoughts  are  con- 
trary to  each  other,  cause  it  to  revolve;  but  what  has 
been  said  just  now,  and  remains  alone,  that  at  one  time 
it  is  conducted  by  another  divine  cause,  possessing  the 
power  to  live  again,  and  receiving  an  immortality  prepared 
by  the  demiurgus ;  but  that  at  another  time,  when  it  is 
let  loose,  its  proceeds  itself  by  itself;  and,  after  being 
thus  let  loose  for  such  a  time  as  to  perform  back  again 
many  myriads  of  revolutions,  it  proceeds  by  its  being  of 
the  greatest  size,  and  most  equally  balanced,  to  move  at 
the  smallest  foot. 

Soc.jun.  —  All  that  you  have  gone  through  appears  to 
be  said  very  reasonably  indeed. 

[14.]  Guest. —  Reasoning  then  from  what  has  been  said 
already,  let  us  think  together  on  the  circumstance,  which 
we  stated  was  the  cause  of  all  these  wonderful  doings. 
For  it  is  this  very  thing. 

Soc.  j'un. —  What  ? 

Guest.  —  That  the  movement  of  the  universe  is  at  one 
time  carried  on,  as  it  is  at  present,  in  a  circle,  and  at 
another  time  in  the  contrary  direction. 

Soc.  jun. — How  is  this  ? 

Guest. — We  must  consider  this  change  of  motion  to  be 
the  greatest  and  most  perfect  of  all  the  revolutions,  relat- 
ing to  the  heavenly  bodies. 

Soc.jun. —  It  is  likely. 

Guest. —  It  is  proper  then  to  think  that  the  greatest 
changes  happen  at  that  time  to  us,  who  are  living  within 
the  universe. 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun.  —  And  this,  too,  is  likely. 

Guest. —  But  do  we  not  know  that  the  nature  of  ani- 
mals sustains  with  difficulty  changes  great,  numerous, 
and  of  all  kinds  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not.  ? 

Guest. —  Hence  the  greatest  destruction  of  other  ani- 
mals necessarily  takes  place  at  that  time,  and  that  of 
the  human  race  only  some  small  portion  remains.  And 
to  these  many  other  wonderful  and  novel  circumstances 
happen  at  the  same  time;  but  this  is  the  greatest,  and 
follows  that  revolution  of  the  universe  at  that  period, 
when  a  turn  occurs  contrary  to  the  present  state  of  things. 

Soc.  jun. — What? 

Guest. —  The  period  of  life,  which  each  animal  then 
had,  this  was  first  arrested  in  all;  and  all  that  was  mor- 
tal ceased  to  be  seen  advancing  to  old  age,  but  changing 
back  to  the  contrary,  grew,  as  it  were,  younger  and 
more  delicate.  The  white  hairs  too  of  older  people 
became  black,  and  the  cheeks  of  those  that  had  beards 
becoming  smooth,  brought  back  each  person  to  the  past 
blooming  period  of  life.  The  bodies  likewise  of  such  as 
were  in  manhood's  prime,  becoming  smoother  and 
smaller  each  day  and  night,  returned  again  to  the 
nature  of  a  newly-born  child,  and  were  assimilated  to 
this  nature,  both  in  soul  and  body;  and  thenceforth 
wasting  away,  disappeared  in  reality  entirely;  and  the 
corpses  of  those,  who  died  at  that  time  through  violence, 
did,  through  undergoing  the  self-same  fate,  become  in  a 
manner  unseen,  and  in  a  few  days,  quite  putrid. 

[15.]  Soc.  jun. —  But  what  was  then,  O  guest  the  gen- 
eration of  animals,  and  in  what  manner  were  they 
produced  from  each  other  ? 

Guest. —  It  is  evident,  Socrates,  that  at  that  time  there 
was  no  generation  of  one  thing  from  another;  but,  it  is 
said,  there  was  once  an  earth-bom  race;  this  was  at  that 
period  restored  back  again  from  earth;  and  the  tradition 
of  it  was  remembered  by  our  first  progenitors,  who  were 
close  upon  the  revolution  (that  reached  to)  the  period 
next  in  order,  and  were  born  at  the  beginning  of  the 
present  state  of  things.  For  they  became  the  heralds  to 
us  of  those  accounts,  which  are  at  present  disbelieved 


THE  STATESMAN 


23 


improperly  by  the  multitude.  For  I  think  we  ought  to 
reflect  together  on  the  consequence.  For  from  the  fact 
of  old  men  coming  to  the  nature  of  boys,  it  follows, 
that  of  such  as  were  dead,  but  (not)  laid  in  the  earth, 
the  corpses  would  be  put  together  and  made  to  revive 
by  the  turn  of  production  revolving  in  a  contrary  direc- 
tion; and  that  the  earth-born  race  would,  according  to 
this  method  being  necessarily  produced,  have  their  name 
and  speech,  except  such  as  a  deity  conveyed  (elsewhere), 
or  invested  with  another  fate. 

Soc.  j'un. — This  really  follows  from  what  has  been  said 
above.  But  with  respect  to  the  life,  which  you  say  was 
under  the  rule  of  Kronos  (Saturn),  did  it  subsist  in  those 
revolutions,  or  in  these  ?  For  it  is  evident  that  the  change 
in  the  position  of  the  stars  and  the  sun  coincides  with 
both  these  revolutions. 

Guest. — You  have  followed  well  the  discourse.  But,  in 
answer  to  your  question  respecting  all  things  being  pro- 
duced spontaneously  for  mankind,  this  by  no  means  is 
the  case  in  the  present  revolution ;  but  it  occurred  in  the 
former.  For  then  the  deity  was  at  first  the  ruler  and 
guardian  of  the  whole  revolving  circle ;  just  as  now  the 
parts  of  the  world  are  locally  distributed  by  gods  ruling  in 
the  very  same  way.  Divine  daemons,  too,  had  a  share,  after 
the  manner  of  shepherds,  in  animals  according  to  genera 
and  herds,  each  being  sufficient  for  all  things  pertaining 
to  the  several  particulars  over  which  he  presided;  so  that 
there  was  nothing  of  a  wild  nature,  no  eating  of  each 
other,  no  war,  nor  sedition  of  any  kind;  and  ten  thous- 
and other  things  might  be  stated,  which  follow  upon  such 
an  arrangement.  But  what  is  said  respecting  the  spon- 
taneous life  of  these  men,  has  been  stated  on  this  account. 
The  deity  himself  tended  them,  and  was  their  protector; 
just  as  men  now,  being  an  animal  more  divine  than 
others,  tend  other  races  meaner  than  themselves;  and  as 
he  tended  them,  there  were  no  forms  of  state  or  polity, 
nor  a  property  in  women  and  children ;  for  all  these  were 
restored  to  life  from  the  earth,  and  had  no  recollection 
of  former  events.*    But  all  such  things  were  absent;  they 

*  On  the  other  hand,  Plato,  in  the  Meno  and  Phaedo,  says  that  man's 
present  knowledge  is  only  the  recollection  of  what  the  soul  knew  in  a 


24 


THE  STATESMAN 


had,  however,  fruit  in  abundance  from  oaks,  and  many- 
other  trees,  not  grown  by  land  tilling,  but  given  spon- 
taneously by  the  earth.  They  lived,  too,  for  the  most 
part  naked,  upon  no  strewed  couch,  and  in  the  open  air; 
for  the  temperament  of  the  seasons  was  not  painful  to  them ; 
theirs  were  soft  beds  of  grass,  springing  up  without  grudg- 
ing from  the  earth.  And  thus,  Socrates,  you  hear  what 
was  the  life  of  men  under  Kronos  (Saturn) :  but  you, 
being  present  yourself,  perceive  what  is  life  now,  which 
is  said  to  be  under  Zeus  (Jupiter).  But  are  you  able  and 
willing  likewise,  to  judge  which  of  these  is  the  happier  ? 
Soc.  jun. —  By  no  means. 

Guest. —  Do  you  wish  then  that  I  should,  after  a  fash- 
ion, judge  for  you  ? 
Soc.  Jun. —  Entirely  so. 

[i6.]  Guest. —  If  then  those  nurtured  by  Kronos  (Sat- 
urn), when  they  had  so  much  leisure  and  the  power  to 
converse  not  only  with  men,  but  with  brutes  likewise, 
had  used  all  these  means  for  the  purposes  of  philosophy, 
associating  with  brutes  and  with  each  other,  and  inquir- 
ing of  every  nature  which  had  a  perceptive  power  of  its 
own,  in  what  respect  it  differed  from  the  rest  for  the 
collecting  together  of  prudence,  it  is  easy  to  judge  that 
the  men  of  that  time  were  ten  thousand-fold  happier  than 
those  of  the  present.  But  if,  being  filled  to  satiety  with 
meats  and  drinks,  they  discoursed  with  each  other,  and 
with  brutes,  in  fables.*  such  as  are  now  told  of  them,  it 
is  easy,  according  to  my  opinion,  to  prove  the  very  same 
thing.  Let  us,  however,  dismiss  this  question,  until  some 
one  shall  appear  sufficient  to  point  out  whether  the  men 
of  that  time  had  any  desire  for  science  and  the  need  of 
discourse.  But  let  us  now  state  for  what  reason  we  have 
raised  up  the  fable,  in  order  that  we  may  after  this  pro- 
ceed onward.  For  when  the  time  of  all  these  was  corn- 
previous  state  of  existence,  according  to  the  Pythagorean  doctrine  of  the 
Metempsychosis. 

*  Here  is  evidently  an  allusion  to  the  .lEsopic  Fables,  which  I  have 
shown  in  The  Surplice,  No.  35,  July,  1846,  and  foil.,  to  have  been 
written  by  Socrates;  to  which  Plato  has  thus  properly  paid  no  mean 
a  compliment;  for  they  were  above  all  praise;  although  they  are  found 
at  present  in  only  a  mutilated  form,  like  some  of  the  finest  temples 
of  former  times. 


THE  STATESMAN 


25 


pleted,  and  it  was  necessary  for  a  change  to  take  place, 
and  moreover,  when  the  whole  race  on  earth  was  already 
consumed,  and  every  soul  had  given  up  its  generations, 
and  as  many  seeds  as  were  ordained  for  each  soul,  it 
having  fallen  on  the  earth,  then  did  the  governor  of 
the  universe,  releasing  himself,  as  it  were,  from  the 
handle  of  a  rudder,  depart  to  his  own  place  of  a  look- 
out; and  then  Fate  and  implanted  Desire  again  caused 
the  world  to  revolve.  All  the  gods  then,  who  govern 
locally,  in  conjunction  with  the  greatest  divinity,  know- 
ing what  was  now  taking  place,  again  deprived  the  parts 
of  the  world  of  their  providential  care.  But  the  world 
having  undergone  a  change  in  its  revolution,  conflicting 
and  rushing  with  the  contrary  impulse  of  a  beginning 
and  end,  and  producing  in  itself  a  mighty  concussion, 
worked  out  again  another  destruction  of  all  kinds  of 
animals.  After  this,  when  a  sufficient  time  had  gone  on, 
the  world  ceasing  from  tumult,  confusion,  and  concus- 
sions, did,  taking  advantage  of  a  calm,  proceed,  arranged 
most  beautifully  in  its  usual  course,  possessing  a  guardi- 
anship and  dominion  itself  over  the  things  in  itself  and 
belonging  to  itself;  (and)  remembering,  to  the  utmost  of 
its  power,  the  instructions  of  the  demiurgus  and  father. 
Now  at  the  commencement  it  performed  this  duty  more 
carefully,  but  at  the  end  more  obtusely.  But  the  cause 
of  this  is  in  the  corporeal  form  of  the  temperature,  which 
had  grown  up  with  its  former  nature ;  since  it  partook  of 
much  disorder,  before  it  arrived  at  its  present  orderly 
arrangement.  For  from  him,  who  put  it  together,  it  ob- 
tained every  good ;  but  from  its  previous  habit,  whatever 
harshness  and  injustice  exist  in  heaven,  these  it  does  both 
possess  itself  from  that  former  habit,  and  introduce  like- 
wise into  animals.  In  conjunction  then  with  the  ruler, 
the  world,  when  nourishing  the  animals  within  it,  brings 
forth  evil  of  a  small  kind,  but  good  of  a  large ;  but  sepa- 
rated from  him,  it  conducts  all  things  beautifully  during 
the  time  nearest  to  his  departure;  but  as  time  goes  on, 
and  oblivion  comes  on  it,  the  circumstance  of  its 
former  unfitness  domineers  with  greater  force;  and 
at  the  concluding  period  of  time  it  bursts  out  into  the 
full  flower  of  wrong;  and  (producing)  only  a  little  good 


26 


THE  STATESMAN 


but  mingling  much  of  the  temperament  of  things  con- 
trary to  good,  it  arrives  at  the  danger  of  both  its  own 
destruction,  and  of  the  things  within  it.  Hence  the  god, 
who  arranged  the  world,  perceiving  it  in  difficulties,  and 
anxious  lest,  being  thus  tempest-tossed,  it  should  be  thor- 
oughly loosened  by  the  hurly-burly  and  be  plunged  into 
the  infinite  sea  of  dissimilitude,  again  seats  himself  at 
the  helm;  and  whatever  is  laboring  and  loosened  in  its 
own  former  period,  he  having  turned  arranges,  and  by 
putting  straight,  renders  the  world  free  from  death  and 
old  age.  This  then  is  ( one )  end  of  the  whole  story. 
But  this  is  sufficient  to  show,  from  what  has  been  said, 
the  nature  of  a  king  to  such,  as  lay  hold  of  the  discourse. 
For  the  world  having  been  again  turned  to  the  present 
path  of  generation,  its  age  was  again  stopped,  and  it  im- 
parted novel  things,  the  contrary  to  what  it  had  done 
formerly.  For  animals,  wanting  but  little  to  be  through 
their  small  size  annihilated,  are  increased ;  and  hoary  bodies 
recently  born  from  the  earth,  dying  again,  descend  into 
the  earth ;  and  all  other  things  are  changed,  imitating  and 
following  the  conditions  of  the  universe.  The  imitation, 
likewise,  of  conception,  generation,  and  nourishing,  fol- 
lowed all  things  from  necessity.  For  it  was  no  longer 
possible  for  an  animal  to  be  produced  in  the  earth,  through 
the  different  things,  which  compose  it;  but,  as  the  world 
was  ordained  to  be  the  absolute  ruler  of  its  own  progress, 
so  after  the  same  manner  its  parts  also  were  destined  by 
a  similar  guidance  to  spring  forth,  generate,  and  nourish, 
as  far  as  they  were  able.  But  we  have  now  arrived  at 
the  very  question  for  the  sake  of  which  the  whole  of  our 
discourse  was  proceeded.  For,  with  respect  to  other  beasts, 
many  circumstances,  and  of  a  prolix  nature,  might  be 
gone  through;  such  as,  from  what  each  is,  and  through 
what  cause  they  have  been  changed;  but  those  relating 
to  man  are  shorter,  and  more  to  our  purpose.  For  man- 
kind having  become  destitute  of  the  guardian  care  of  the 
daemon,  who  possesses  and  tends  us,  while  the  majority  of 
animals,  that  were  naturally  cruel,  have  on  the  other  hand 
become  savage,  men,  now  weak,  and  without  a  guard, 
were  torn  to  pieces  by  such  animals ;  and,  in  those  earliest 
times,  they  were  without  inventions  and  arts;  for  after 


THE  STATESMAN 


27 


the  earth  had  failed  in  its  spontaneous  food,  they  did  not 
know  how  to  procure  it,  through  no  want  having  previ- 
ously compelled  them  (to  get  it).  From  all  these  causes 
they  were  in  the  greatest  difficulties.  Hence  the  old- 
mentioned  gifts  were  given  us  by  gods,  together  with  the 
necessary  instruction  and  erudition ;  fire  from  Prometheus, 
and  arts  from  Hephaestus  (Vulcan),  and  his  fellow-artist 
(Pallas);  on  the  other  hand,  seeds  and  plants  were  given 
by  others,  and  all  such  things  as  furnish  a  support  for 
human  life,  were  produced  from  these;  since,  as  was 
stated  just  now,  the  guardian  care  of  the  gods  had  de- 
serted mankind ;  and  it  became  requisite  for  men  to  have 
the  conduct  and  care  of  themselves,  in  the  same  manner 
as  the  whole  world ;  in  the  imitating  and  following  which, 
through  all  the  revolutions  of  time,  we  live  and  are  born, 
now  in  this  way,  and  now  in  that.  Let  this  then  be  the 
end  of  the  story.  But  we  will  make  it  useful  for  dis- 
covering how  far  we  have  erred  in  defining  the  characters 
of  a  king  and  statesman  in  our  previous  discourse. 

[17.]  Soc.  j'un.  In  what  respect  then,  and  how  far,  do 
you  say  has  there  been  an  [error  ? 

Guest. — Partly  less,  and  partly  in  a  very  generous  man- 
ner, and  in  a  greater  degree,  and  more  than  before. 

Soc.  jun. — How  ? 

Guest. —  Because,  when  we  were  asked  respecting  a  king 
and  a  statesman  belonging  to  the  present  revolution  and 
generation,  we  spoke  of  a  person  tending  a  human  herd 
of  the  contrary  period,  and  this  too  a  god,  and  not  a  man. 
In  this  then  we  transgressed  very  much.  But  when  we 
exhibited  him  as  the  ruler  of  the  whole  state,  we  did  not 
say  in  what  manner  (he  was  so) ;  and  in  this  respect  the 
truth  was  told,  but  not  the  whole  (truth),  nor  was  it 
clearly  enunciated;  hence  we  erred  less  in  this  case  than 
in  that. 

Soc.  jmi. — True. 

Guest. — We  ought  then,  it  seems,  to  expect  that  the 
statesman  will  have  been  completely  described  by  tis, 
when  we  shall  have  defined  the  manner  of  governing  a  state. 

Soc.  jun. — Very  well. 

Guest. —  On  this  account  we  have  brought  forward  the 
story,  in  order  that  (one)  might  show,  with  respect  to  the 


28 


THE  STATESMAN 


herd-tending,  not  only  that  all  contend  about  it  with  the 
person  now  sought  for;  hut  that  we  might  more  clearly 
perceive  him,  whom,  alone  it  is  fitting  according  to  the 
pattern  of  shepherds  and  neat-herds,  to  have  the  tend- 
ing of  the  human  herd,  and  alone  worthy  to  be  called 
by  that  name. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Right. 

Guest. —  But  I  think,  Socrates,  that  this  figure  of  a 
divine  shepherd  is  still  greater  than  becomes  a  king; 
and  that  the  statesmen  now  existing  here  are  much 
more  like  subjects  in  their  nature,  and  take  more  nearly 
a  share  in  discipline  and  nurture. 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Giiest.  —  But  they  will  have  to  be  investigated  neither 
more  nor  less,  whether  they  are  naturally  in  this  position 
or  in  that. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not  ? 

Guest. —  Let  us  then  turn  back  again.  For  we  said,  that 
there  was  a  self-commanding  art  respecting  animals, 
which  took  care  of  them,  not  privately,  but  in  common; 
and  this  art  we  then  straightway  called  the  herd-tending 
art.    Do  you  recollect  ? 

Soc.  jun. — Yes. 

Guest.  —  In  this  then  we  erred.  For  we  have  not  by  any 
means  laid  hold  of  the  statesman,  nor  given  him  a  name ;  but 
as  regards  the  appellation,  it  has  lain  hid  from  and  escaped  us. 

Soc.  juyi.  —  How  so? 

Guest. —  To  tend  the  several  kinds  of  herds  belongs  to 
all  other  herdsmen ;  but  we  have  not  given  a  fitting  name 
to  the  statesman,  it  being  requisite  for  him  to  bear  one 
of  those  common  to  all. 

Soc.  jun. — You  speak  the  truth,  if  indeed  there  hap- 
pens to  be  (a  common  one). 

Giicst. — But  how  is  it  not  possible  to  apply  the  word 
healing,  as  something  common  to  all,  neither  tending  nor 
any  other  occupation  being  stated  ?  and  if  it  is  lawful  for 
persons  giving  a  name  (to  an  art)  to  wrap  it  up  (in  words 
like)  herd-tending,  or  healing  in  any  way,  as  being  appli- 
cable generally,  (it  is  lawful  to  wrap  up)  the  word  states- 
man likewise  together  with  others,  especially  since  reason 
shows  that  this  should  (be  done)  ? 


THE  STATESMAN 


29 


[18.]  Soc.  jun. — Right.  But  after  this  in  what  manner 
would  the  division  be  made  ? 

Guest. — In  the  same  manner,  as  we  before  divided  the 
herd-tending-  art  for  the  walking  and  wingless  tribes,  and 
for  the  immixed  and  hornless,  in  the  very  same  manner 
by  dividing  the  herd-tending,  we  shall  have  compre- 
hended both  the  present  kingly  rule  and  that  in  the  time 
of  Kronos  (Saturn)  similarly  in  our  discourse. 

Soc.  jun. — It  appears  so.  But  I  am  seeking  what  (will 
be)  after  this. 

Guest. —  It  is  plain  that  if  the  word  herd-tending  had 
been  thus  spoken,  no  one  would  have  contended  with  us 
that  there  is  no  idea  whatever  of  attention  in  it;  as  it 
was  then  justly  contended,  that  there  is  no  art  amongst 
us  which  deserves  the  appellation  of  tending;  and  that 
if  there  were,  it  belongs  to  many  things  prior  and  pref- 
erable to  any  thing  pertaining  to  kings. 

Soc.  jun. —  Right. 

Guest. —  But  no  other  art  would  be  willing  to  say  that 
it  is  more  and  before  kingly  rule,  as  a  careful  tending 
of  the  whole  of  human  fellowship,  and  of  men  taken 
generally. 

Soc.  jun. —  You  say  rightly. 

Guest. —  But  after  this,  Socrates,  do  you  perceive  that 
an  error  has  been  made  frequently  toward  the  very  end  ? 
Soc.  jun.  —  Of  what  kind? 

Guest. —  In  this,  that  though  we  have  conceived  that 
there  is  a  certain  rearing  art  of  a  biped  herd,  we 
ought  not  any  more  to  have  straightway  called  it,  as  if 
entirely  complete,  the  art  of  the  king  and  statesman. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Why  not  ? 

Guest. —  In  the  first  place,  as  we  said,  we  (ought)  to 
have  suited  the  name  more  to  guardianship  than  to  nu- 
triment: and  in  the  next  place,  to  make  a  division  in 
this  (guardianship).    For  it  will  have  no  small  divisions. 

Soc.  jun. —  Of  what  kind  ? 

Guest. —  In  that  we  can  surely  place  apart  the  divine 
shepherd,  and  the  human  gnardian. 
Soc.  jim. —  Right. 

Guest. — And  again  it  is  necessary  to  cut  into  two  the 
distributed  guardianship. 


3° 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun. —  Into  what  ? 

Guest. —  Into  the  violent  and  the  voluntary. 
Soc.  Jun.  —  What  then? 

Guest. —  By  erring  before  in  this  more  stupidly  than 
was  fitting,  we  put  down  together  a  king  and  a  tyrant 
as  the  same;  although  they  are  most  dissimilar  both  in 
themselves  and  in  their  form  of  government  respectively. 

Soc.  jun. —  True. 

Guest. —  Now,  therefore,  again  correcting  ourselves,  let 
us,  as  I  have  already  said,  divide  human  guardianship 
into  the  violent  and  the  voluntary. 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. — And  calling  the  guardianship  by  the  violent 
tyrannic,  but  the  voluntary  [and  the  herd-tending  of 
voluntary  biped  animals],  statesmanship,  let  us  show, 
that  he  who  possesses  this  [art  and]  guardianship  is  truly 
a  king  and  a  statesman. 

[19.]  Soc.  jun. — And  thus  the  demonstration,  O  guest, 
respecting  the  statesman,  is  very  like  to  appear  to  us  as 
being  perfect. 

Guest. — This  would  be  well  for  us,  Socrates.  But  it  is 
requisite  that  this  should  appear  not  only  to  you,  but 
likewise  to  me,  in  common  with  you.  At  present,  how- 
ever, the  king  appears  to  me  not  to  possess  as  yet  a 
perfect  figure;  but  just  as  statuaries,  who  by  hastening 
their  work  sometimes  unseasonably,  do,  through  intro- 
ducing more  and  greater  things  than  are  fitting,  retard 
it:  so  have  we  at  present,  in  order  that  we  might  show 
both  quickly  and  splendidly,  that  we  erred  in  the  former 
part  of  our  digression,  through  thinking  that  great  pat- 
terns should  be  employed  in  the  case  of  a  king,  have 
brought  in  a  marvelous  mass  of  a  myth,  and  been  com- 
pelled to  use  a  greater  portion  of  it  than  was  proper. 
On  this  account,  we  have  made  a  rather  prolix  demon- 
stration, and  have  not  entirely  finished  the  fable.  But 
our  discourse  really  appears  somewhat  like  an  animal,  to 
have  its  outline  defined  sufficiently,  but  to  have  not 
received  the  distinctness  given  by  pigments,  and  the 
mixture  of  colors.  But  it  is  more  becoming  to  exhibit 
every  animal  by  a  description,  to  such  as  are  able  to 
follow  the  account,  than  by  painting,  and  9,11  the  work 


THE  STATESMAN 


31 


of  hand;  but  to  other  persons  through  works  of  the 
hand. 

Soc.  jun.  —  This  indeed  (is  said  rightly) :  but  show  me 
why  you  say  you  have  not  yet  spoken  sufficiently. 

Guest.  —  It  is  difficult,  O  divine  youth,  to  exhibit  great 
things  sufficiently,  without  using  patterns.  For  each  of 
us  appear  to  know  all  things  as  in  a  night-dream,  and 
again  to  be  ignorant  of  all  things  according  to  a  day- 
dream. 

Soc.  jun.  —  How  said  you  this  ? 

Guest.  —  We  appear  in  the  present  case  to  have  mooted 
very  absurdly  the  circumstance  relating  to  the  knowledge 
(which  is)  in  us. 

Soc.  jun.  —  How  so  ? 

Guest. — The  pattern,  O  blessed  one,  has  required  itself 
again  a  pattern. 

Soc.  jun.  —  What  ?  Tell  me,  and  do  not,  on  my  account 
at  least,  hesitate. 

[20.]  Guest. — I  must  speak,  since  you  are  ready  to 
tollow.    For  we  know,  that  children  know  their  letters. 

Soc.  jun.  —  What  ? 

Guest.  —  That  they  understand  sufficiently  each  of  the 
letters  in  the  shortest  and  easiest  syllables,  and  are  able 
to  speak  the  truth  concerning  them. 

Soc.  jun.  —  How  not  ? 

Guest.  —  But,  being  on  the  other  hand  doubtful  about 
those  in  other  syllables,  they  say  what  is  false  in  idea 
and  word. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Entirely  so. 

Guest.  —  Is  it  not  then  the  easiest  and  the  best  thing 
to  lead  them  thus  to  what  is  not  yet  known  ? 
Soc.  jun.  —  How  ? 

Guest.  —  By  first  leading  them  back  to  those  things,  in 
which  they  had  correct  ideas  respecting  those  very  same 
matters;  and  after  leading  them,  to  place  before  them 
things  not  yet  known;  and  by  comparing  them  together, 
to  show  that  there  is  the  same  likeness  and  nature  in 
both  the  combinations,  till  the  things  conceived,  having 
been  compared  with  all  the  unknown,  are  shown  correctly ; 
and,  after  being  shown  and  becoming  thus  patterns,  cause 
each  one  of  all  the  letters  in  all  the  syllables  to  be  called 


32 


THE  STATESMAN 


one  different,   and  another  the  same,  as  being  always 
under  the  same  circumstances,  different  and  the  same 
(respectively). 
Soc  Jim.  —  Entirely  so. 

Guest.  —  This,  then,  we  sufficiently  comprehend,  that  the 
production  of  a  pattern  then  takes  place,  when  that, 
which  is  the  same,  is,  in  the  case  of  another  thing  placed 
apart,  rightly  conceived  by  opinion,  and  being  brought 
together  to  it,  produces  one  true  opinion  respecting  either, 
as  it  did  about  both. 

Soc.  j'un. — It  appears  so. 

Guest. —  Shall  we  then  wonder  if  our  soul,  suffering 
naturally  the  same  thing  respecting  the  elements  of  all 
things,  does  at  one  time  stand  firm  in  certain  points 
under  the  influence  of  truth  respecting  each  individual 
thing,  and  at  another  time  fluctuates  in  other  points  re- 
specting all  things  ?  and  that  when,  (as  regards)  some 
(elements)  of  comminglings,  it  thinks  rightly,  it  should 
somehow  or  another  again  be  ignorant  of  these  very  same 
things,  when  they  are  transferred  to  long  and  difficult 
syllable-like  unions  of  things  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  There  is  nothing  wonderful  in  this. 

Guest. —  But  how,  my  friend,  can  any  one,  beginning 
from  false  opinion,  arrive  at  even  a  small  portion  of 
truth,  and  thus  acquire  wisdom  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  Nearly  not  at  all. 

Guest. —  If  then  these  things  are  naturally  in  this  way, 
you  and  I  shall  not  in  any  respect  overdo  it,  if,  by  first 
endeavoring  to  perceive  the  nature  of  the  whole  pattern 
in  some  other  small  and  partial  one,  and  after  this,  by 
transferring  to  the  nature  of  a  king,  which  is  the  great- 
est of  all  patterns,  the  same  species,  from  lesser  things 
from  some  quarter,  we  shall  be  about  to  endeavor  again, 
through  a  pattern,  to  know  by  art  the  care  of  state 
affairs,  so  that  there  may  be  a  day-dream  instead  of  a 
night  one. 

Soc.  jun. —  Perfectly  right. 

Guest.  —  Again  then  let  us  take  up  the  preceding  rea- 
soning, that  since  ten  thousand  persons  contend  with  the 
kingly  genus,  respecting  the  guardianship  of  a  state,  it 
is  requisite  to  separate  all  these,  and  to  leave  it  by 


THE  STATESMAN 


33 


itself.  And  for  this  purpose  we  said  we  have  need  of 
some  pattern. 

Soc.  j'un. — And  very  much  so. 

[21.]  Guest. —  By  producing  then  what  pattern,  which 
embraces  an  occupation  similar  to  statesmanship,  and  is 
the  smallest  possible,  could  one  sufficiently  find  the  thing 
sought  for  ?  Are  you,  Socrates,  willing,  by  Zeus,  unless 
we  have  something  else  at  hand,  for  us  to  choose  at  least 
the  weaving  art  ?  and  this  too  not  the  whole,  if  it  seems 
good;  for,  perhaps,  the  art  relating  to  weaving  of  wool 
will  suffice.  For  it  may  happen,  that  even  this  portion 
being  chosen  will  witness  to  what  we  want  (to  show). 

Soc.  jun.  —  For  why  should  it  not? 

Guest. —  Why  then  have  we  not,  as  we  did  before,  after 
cutting  the  parts,  each  of  them  separate,  done  the  very 
same  thing  now  in  the  case  of  the  weaving  art  ?  and  why, 
after  passing  over  all  things  to  the  best  of  our  power  in 
the  shortest  manner  possible,  have  we  not  come  to  what 
is  useful  at  present  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  say  you? 

Guest. — I  will  make  the  digression  itself  an  answer. 

Soc.  jun.  —  You  speak  most  excellently. 

Guest. —  Of  all  the  things  which  we  fabricate  and  pos- 
sess, some  are  for  the  sake  of  our  doing  something,  and 
others  are  defenses  against  our  not  suffering.  And  of 
these  defenses  some  are  medicinal,  both  divine  and 
human;  others  are  protective.  And  of  the  protective, 
some  are  warlike  implements,  others  (peaceful)  defenses. 
And  of  the  (peaceful)  defenses,  some  are  veils,  others 
are  to  ward  off  heat  and  cold.  And  of  those  that  ward 
off,  some  cover  at  a  distance,  others  near.  And  of  the 
near,  some  are  extended  under,  others  around.  And  of 
those  extended  around,  some  are  cut  as  a  whole  piece, 
others  put  together.  And  of  those  put  together,  some 
are  perforated,  others  are  bound  together,  not  perforated. 
And  of  those  that  are  not  perforated,  some  are  composed 
of  the  fibres  of  the  plants  of  the  earth,  others  are 
hairy.  And  of  the  hairy,  some  are  conglutinated  by  water 
and  earth,  others  are  connected  themselves  with  them- 
selves. Now  to  these  defenses  and  coverings,  which  are 
wrought  from  the  things  bound  together,  themselves 
3 


34 


THE  STATESMAN 


with  themselves,  we  give  the  name  of  dress.  And  let  us 
call  the  art,  which  is  especially  conversant  with  dresses, 
dressmaking,  from  the  thing  itself;  in  the  same  manner 
as  we  called  above  the  art  respecting  a  state,  statesman- 
ship. And  let  us  say  too,  that  the  weaving  art,  so  far 
as  it  weaves  for  the  most  part  garments,  differs  in  noth- 
ing but  the  name  from  the  dressmaking  art;  just  as 
(we  said)  there,  that  the  king-art  (differed  only  nom- 
inally) from  statesmanship. 
Soc.  jiin. —  Most  correctly. 

Guest. —  After  this  let  us  reason  (thus),  that  some  one 
may  perhaps  think  that  the  weaving  art  relating  to 
dresses  has  been  thus  defined  sufficiently,  he  being  unable 
to  perceive  that  it  is  not  yet  distinguished  from  its  prox- 
imate co-operators,  but  is  separated  from  many  other 
things  of  a  kindred  nature. 

[22.]  Soc.  jun.  —  Tell  me  what  things  of  a  kindred 
nature. 

Guest.  —  You  have  not  followed  what  has  been  said,  as 
it  seems.  It  appears,  therefore,  that  we  must  return 
from  the  end  to  the  beginning.  For,  if  you  understand 
affinity,  we  have  now  separated  this  from  that,  by  sep- 
arating the  composition  of  coverings  into  things  put 
under  and  around. 

Soc.  jun.  —  I  understand  you. 

Guest. — We  have  likewise  separated  every  kind  of  man- 
ufacture from  flax  and  hemp,  and  all  such  things  as  we 
just  now  described  in  the  list  of  the  fibres  of  plants.  We 
also  defined  the  art  of  making  a  felt-like  substance,  and 
the  putting  together  by  means  of  perforation  and  sewing, 
which  for  the  most  part  pertains  to  the  cobbler's  art. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Entirely  so. 

Guest.  —  We  have  also  separated  the  care  bestowed  on 
the  cobbler's  art  relating  to  coverings  cut  in  the  whole 
piece,  and  of  such  as  are  employed  in  building,  and  in 
the  whole  of  the  carpenter's  art,  and  in  all  others  that 
are  employed  in  stopping  the  flowing  of  water,  and  such 
arts  too  of  (peaceful)  defenses  as  furnish  works  to  be  an 
impediment  to  thieving  and  to  acts  of  violence,  and  which 
are  employed  about  the  production  of  obstacles  and  the 
fixing  of  doors,  and  are  distributed  as  parts  of  the  bolt- 


THE  STATESMAN 


35 


making-  art.  We  have  likewise  divided  the  armor-making 
art,  which  is  a  section  of  the  great  and  varied  power  of 
defense-making.  We  also  defined,  in  the  very  beginning, 
the  whole  art  of  quackery  which  is  conversant  with 
medicines;  and  we  left,  so  that  we  might  seem  (to  be), 
the  very  art  defensive  against  storms,  of  which  we  are 
in  search,  and  which  produces  woolen  vestments,  and  is 
called  the  art  of  weaving. 
Soc.  jun. —  It  seems  so. 

Guest. —  But  this  matter,  O  boy,  has  not  been  perfectly 
detailed.  For  he,  who  first  engaged  in  the  making  of 
garments,  appeared  to  act  in  a  manner  directly  contrary 
to  weaving. 

Soc.  pin. —  How  so? 

Guest. —  For  the  work  of  weaving  is  a  certain  knitting 
together. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is. 

Guest.  —  But  the  work  (of  the  garment-maker)  consists 
in  loosening  things  put  together,  and  felted  together. 

Soc.  jun.  —  What  kind  of  work  is  this  ? 

Guest. —  The  work  of  the  art  of  the  wool-carder.  Or 
shall  we  dare  to  call  the  art  of  wool-carding  the 
weaving  art,  and  a  wool-carder  a  weaver  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  By  no  means. 

Guest. —  But  if  any  one  should  call  the  art  of  making 
the  warp  and  woof  the  weaving  art,  would  he  not  assert 
a  parodox,  and  give  it  a  false  name  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Gtiest. —  But  whether  shall  we  say  that  the  whole  of  the 
fuller's  and  the  mender's  art  contribute  nothing  to  the 
attention  to  and  care  of  garments  ?  Or  shall  we  call  all 
these  weaving  arts  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  By  no  means. 

Guest. —  But  all  these  contend  with  the  power  of  the 
weaving  art,  respecting  the  care  and  the  production  of 
garments;  attributing,  indeed,  to  it  the  greatest  part,  but 
likewise  assigning  to  themselves  great  portions  of  the 
same  art. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  Besides  these,  it  further  appears  requisite,  that 
the  handicraft  arts,  relating  to  the  instruments  through 


36 


THE  STATESMAN 


which  the  works  of  the  weaver  are  performed,  should  lay 
claim  to  be  co-causes  of  all  weaving. 
Soc.  jun.  —  Most  right. 

Guest. — Whether  then  will  our  discourse  about  the 
weaving  art,  a  part  of  which  we  have  chosen,  be  suffi- 
ciently defined,  if  we  lay  it  down  that  it  is  the  most 
beautiful  and  the  greatest  of  all  the  arts,  which  are 
employed  about  woolen  garments  ?  Or  shall  we  thus, 
indeed,  speak  something  of  the  truth,  but  yet  neither 
clearly  nor  perfectly,  till  we  have  separated  all  these  arts 
from  it  ? 

Soc.  jun. — Correctly. 

[23.]  Guest. —  Must  we  not  then  after  this  so  act,  that, 
what  we  say,  may  proceed  in  an  orderly  series  ? 
Soc.  jun. —  How  not  ? 

Guest. — In  the  first  place  then  let  us  consider  two  arts, 
which  exist  about  all  things. 
Soc.  jun. — What  are  they? 

Guest. — One  is  the  co-cause  of  generation,  and  the 
other  is  the  cause  itself. 
Soc.  jun. —  How  ? 

Guest. —  Such  arts,  as  do  not  fabricate  the  thing  itself, 
but  prepare  instruments  for  the  fabricating  (arts),  with- 
out the  presence  of  which  the  proposed  work  could  not 
be  effected  by  each  of  the  arts,  these  are  co-causes:  but 
those,  which  fabricate  the  thing  itself,  are  causes. 

Soc.  jun. — This  is  reasonable. 

Guest. —  In  the  next  place,  those  arts  which  produce 
the  distaff,  and  the  shuttle,  and  such  other  instruments 
as  contribute  to  the  making  of  garments,  all  these  are 
co-causes :  but  those  which  pay  attention  to  and  fabricate 
garments,  causes. 

Soc.  jun. —  Most  right. 

Guest.  —  But  of  causes,  it  is  reasonable  to  comprehend 
that  portion  of  it  especially,  which  pertains  to  washing 
and  mending,  and  all  the  caring  about  these,  since  the 
adorning  art  is  abundant,  and  to  denominate  the  whole 
the  fuller's  art. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  will  so. 

Guest. —  Moreover,  the  carding  and  spinning,  and  all 
that  relates  to  the  making  of  the  garment,  of  which  we 


THE  STATESMAN 


37 


are  detailing'  the  parts,  is  one  art,  called  by  all  persons 
the  wool-working. 

Soc.  Jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. — Of  the  wool- working-  there  are  two  sections, 
and  each  of  these  arc  together  naturally  parts  of  two  arts. 
Soc.  Jun. —  How  ? 

Guest. —  The  carding,  and  the  half  of  that  which  uses 
the  shuttle,  and  separates  from  each  other  whatever  are 
placed  together,  all  this  in  short  is  a  part  of  the  wool- 
working  art;  and  there  were  two  great  parts  as  regards 
the  whole,  one  commingling,   and  the  other  separating. 

Soc.  Jun.  —  Yes. 

Guest. —  Of  the  separating  then  both  the  carding  and 
all  those  just  now  mentioned  are  a  part.  For  that,  which 
in  the  case  of  the  wool  and  thread  is  the  separating  art, 
takes  place,  after  one  manner  with  the  shuttle,  and 
after  another  with  the  hands,  has  the  names  which  we 
have  just  now  mentioned. 

Soc.  Jun. —  Entirel)''  so. 

Guest. —  Again,  let  us  take  a  part  of  the  commingling, 
and  of  the  wool-working  contained  in  it;  but  let  us  pass 
by  all  that  was  there  relating  to  the  separating,  and  let 
us  bisect  the  wool-working  (art)  together  into  the  com- 
mingling and  separating  section. 

Sec.  Jun. —  Let  it  be  so  divided. 

Guest.  —  We  must  then,  Socrates,  divide  the  commin- 
gling, and  at  the  same  time  the  wool-working,  if  we  are 
about  to  comprehend  sufficiently  the  proposed  weaving  art. 

Soc.  Ju7i. —  It  will  be  requisite. 

Guest. —  It  will  indeed;  and  let  us  say,  that  one  part  of 
it  is  twisting,  and  the  other  complicating. 

Soc.  Jun. —  Do  I  then  understand  you  ?  For  you  appear 
to  me  to  say  that  the  working  of  the  thread  is  twisting. 

Guest. —  Not  the  working  of  this  only,  but  likewise  of 
the  woof.  Or  shall  we  find  any  production  of  it  which 
is  not  twisting  ? 

Soc.  Jun. —  By  no  means. 

Guest. —  Define   also  each  of  these:   for  perhaps  the 
definition  will  be  suitable. 
Soc.  Jun. — In  what  way? 

Guest. —  In  this.    We  say  that  of  the  operations  of  wool- 


38 


THE  STATESMAN 


carding,  that  which  has  been  drawn  out  into  length  and 
possesses  breadth,  is  a  certain  filament. 
Soc.jun. —  We  do. 

Guest. —  And  of  this,  when  it  is  turned  by  the  spindle, 
and  becomes  a  solid  thread,  do  thou  call  a  stamen;  but 
the  art,  which  regulates  it,  let  us  say  that  this  is  stamen- 
weaving. 

Soc.jun. —  Right. 

Guest.  —  But  such  fabrics  as  receive  a  loose  twisting, 
and,  by  the  infolding  of  the  stamen  through  the  dragging 
of  the  knapping  process,  acquire  a  moderate  softness,  of 
these  we  call  what  is  spun  the  woof,  but  the  art  itself 
which  presides  over  these,  woof -spinning. 

Soc.jun. —  Most  right. 

Guest.  —  And  now  that  part  of  the  weaving  art,  which 
we  have  brought  forward,  is  obvious  to  every  one.  For, 
with  respect  to  a  part  of  the  commingling  art  in  wool- 
working,  when  it  accomplishes  that,  which  is  woven  by 
a  straight  knitting  together  of  the  woof  and  the  thread, 
then  the  whole  of  the  thing  v*'oven  vv'c  call  a  woolen 
garment,  but  the  art  (presiding)  over  it,  weaving. 

Soc.  jun. —  Most  right. 

[24.]  Guest. —  Be  it  so.  But  why  then  did  we  not  im- 
mediately answer,  that  the  weaving  (art)  is  that  which 
infolds  the  woof  and  the  thread,  instead  of  proceeding  in 
a  roundabout  way,  and  defining  many  things  in  vain  ? 

Soc.  juru — It  does  not  appear  to  me,  O  guest,  that  of 
what  has  been  said  a  single  thing  has  been  said  in 
vain. 

Guest.  —  This  is  not  at  all  wonderful.  But  perhaps,  O 
blessed  youth,  it  will  appear  so.  But  against  such  a 
disorder,  should  it  hereafter  by  chance  come  upon  you 
—  for  nothing  is  wonderful  —  hear  a  certain  discourse, 
proper  to  be  spoken  about  all  such  things  as  these. 

Soc.  jun. —  Only  relate  it. 

Guest. —  Let  us  then  in  the  first  place  look  into  the 
whole  of  excess  and  deficiency,  in  order  that  we  may 
praise  and  blame  according  to  reason  whatever  is  said  on 
each  occasion  at  greater  length,  or  the  contrary,  than  is 
becoming  in  disputations  of  this  kind. 

Soc.  juii. —  It  will  be  proper  so  to  do. 


THE  STATESMAN 


39 


Guest. —  Onr  discourse  taking-  place  on  these  points, 
would,  I  think,  take  place  rig-htly. 
Soc.  jiin. —  About  what  things? 

Guest. —  About  length  and  shortness,  and  the  whole  of 
excess  and  deficiency.  For  the  art  of  measuring  is  con- 
versant with  all  these. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is. 

Guest. —  Let  us  divide  it  then  into  two  parts.  For  it 
is  necessary  for  that,  to  which  we  are  hastening. 

Soc.  jun. —  Inform  me  how  this  division  (is  to  be  made). 

Guest. —  Thus.  One  part  according  to  the  ideas  relat- 
ing in  common  to  great  and  little,  but  the  other  part 
according  to  the  necessary  existence  of  production. 

Soc.  J2tn. —  How  say  you? 

Guest. —  Does  it  not  appear  to  you  to  be  according  to 
nature,  that  we  ought  to  speak  of  the  greater  as  being 
greater  than  nothing  else  but  the  lesser  ?  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  of  the  lesser  as  being  lesser  than  the  greater, 
but  nothing  else  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  To  me  it  does. 

Guest. — But  what,  must  we  not  say  that,  what  sur- 
passes the  nature  of  moderation,  and  is  surpassed  by  it, 
whether  in  words  or  actions,  is,  when  produced  in  reality, 
that  by  which  the  good  and  bad  of  us  differ  the  most 
from  each  other  ? 

Soc.  jun. — It  appears  so. 

Guest. — These  twofold  existences  then  and  judgments 
respecting  the  great  and  the  small  we  must  lay  down ; 
but  not,  as  we  just  now  said,  with  reference  to  each 
other  only;  but,  as  is  just  now  said,  we  must  speak  of 
one  as  being  referable  to  each  other,  but  of  the  other 
( as  referable )  to  moderation.  Are  we,  however,  willing 
to  learn  on  what  account  this  is  requisite  ? 

Soc.  jun. — How  not  ? 

Guest. — If  any  one  admits  the  nattire  of  the  greater 
( to  be  referable )  to  nothing  but  the  lesser,  it  will  not 
be  ( referable )  to  moderation.    Will  it  ? 

Soc.  jun.— {It  will  be)  thus. 

Guest. — Shall  we  not  then  destroy  the  arts  themselves, 
and  all  their  works,  according  to  this  reasoning  ?  And 
shall  we  not  cause  to  disappear  entirely  the  statesman's 


40 


THE  STATESMAN 


science,  which  we  are  now  investigating,  and  that  which 
is  called  the  weaving  art  ?  For  all  such  things  as  these 
guard  against  that,  which  is  more  or  less  than  modera- 
tion, not  as  if  it  had  no  existence,  but  as  a  thing  of  a 
difficult  nature  in  practice ;  and  after  this  manner  pre- 
serving moderation,  they  effect  everything  beautiful  and 
good. 

Soc.  jun. — How  not  ? 

Guest. — If  then  we  cause  to  disappear  the  statesman's 
science,  will  not  our  subsequent  search  of  king-science 
be  without  a  road  ? 

Soc.  jun. — Very  much  so. 

Guest. — Whether,  then,  as  in  the  Sophist,  we  com- 
pelled nonentity  to  exist,  after  the  discourse  about  it 
had  fled  from  us  in  that  direction,  so  now  we  shall  com- 
pel the  more  and  the  less  to  become  measured,  not  only 
with  reference  to  each  other,  but  likewise  to  the  pro- 
duction of  moderation  ?  For  no  one  can  become  indis- 
putably a  statesman,  or  be  any  person  else,  possessing 
a  knowledge  relating  to  actions,  if  this  be  not  ac- 
knowledged. 

Soc.  jun. — We  ought  then  to  do  this  even  now  as 
much  as  possible. 

[25.]  Guest.  —  This,  Socrates,  is  a  still  greater  work  than 
that,  although  we  remember  how  great  was  its  prolixity. 
But  it  is  very  just  to  put  hypothetically  something  of 
this  kind  respecting  them. 

Soc.  jun. — Of  what  kind? 

Guest.  —  That  there  will  be  a  need  of  what  has  been  just 
stated,  for  the  demonstration  of  what  is  accurate  respect- 
ing it.  But  as  regards  the  present  question,  this  reason- 
ing is  shown,  well  and  sufficiently,  it  appears  to  me,  to 
assist  us  in  a  conspicuous  manner,  so  that  we  must  think 
all  arts  are  to  be  measured  according  to  something  more 
and  at  the  same  time  less,  not  only  with  reference  to  one 
another,  but  to  the  production  likewise  of  moderation. 
For  when  this  exists,  they  exist  also;  and  when  they 
exist,  this  exists  also;  but  when  either  of  these  does  not 
exist,  neither  of  those  will  exist. 

Soc.  jun. —  This,  indeed,  is  right.  But  what  is  there 
after  this  ? 


THE  STATESMAN 


41 


Guest. — It  is  evident  that  we  should  divide  the  art  of 
measuring,  as  has  been  said,  into  two  parts;  placing  as 
one  of  its  parts  all  those  arts,  which  measure  number,  and 
length,  and  depth,  and  breadth,  and  thickness,  with  refer- 
ence to  the  contrary;  but  placing  as  its  other  part,  such 
arts  as  regard  the  moderate  and  the  becoming,  the  sea- 
sonable and  the  fit,  and  all  such  as  are  separated  from 
the  extremes  toward  the  middle  (point). 

Soc.  jun. —  Each  of  these  sections  is  great,  and  they 
differ  much  from  each  other. 

Guest.  —  That,  Socrates,  which  many  clever  men,  who 
think  they  are  saying  something  wise,  sometimes  assert, 
when  they  say  that  the  art  of  measuring  is  conversant  with 
all  generated  natures,  that  very  thing  happens  to  be  now 
asserted  by  us.  For  all  things  of  art  do  after  a  certain 
manner  partake  of  measure;  but,  in  consequence  of  not 
being  accustomed  to  divide  according  to  species,  these 
men  immediately  bring  together  to  the  same  point  things 
widely  differing  from  each  other,  ani  consider  them  as 
similar ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  they  do  the  very  contrary 
to  this,  by  not  dividing  according  to  their  parts  things 
that  are  different;  although  it  is  requisite  that  when  any 
one  first  perceives  the  communion  of  many  things,  he 
should  not  desist  till  he  perceives  all  the  differences  in 
it,  which  are  placed  in  species;  and  again,  when  the  all- 
various  dissimilitudes  in  multitudes  are  perceived,  he 
should  not  be  able,  through  a  feeling  of  disgust,  to  desist 
(from  this  unpleasant  view),  till  having  enclosed  all  such 
things  as  are  allied  in  one  similitude,  he  invests  them 
with  the  existence  of  a  certain  genus.  And  thus  much 
may  suffice  respecting  these  particulars,  and  concerning 
defect  and  excess.  Let  us  only  carefully  observe  that 
two  genera  of  the  measuring  art  respecting  these  have 
been  found  out,  and  let  us  remember  what  we  say  they  are. 

[26.]  Soc.  jun. —  We  will  remember. 

Guest. — After  this  discussion,  let  us  assume  another 
respecting  the  objects  of  our  search,  and  the  whole  mental 
exercise  in  discourses  of  this  kind. 

Soc.  jun. —  What  is  it  ? 

Guest. —  If  anyone  should  ask  us  respecting  the  assem- 
bling together  of  those  that  learn  their  letters,  when  one 


42 


THE  STATESMAN 


is  asked  of  what  letters  does  any  word  (consist),  shall  we 
say  that  the  inquiry  is  then  made  for  the  sake  of  the 
one  word  proposed,  rather  than  that  of  the  party  becom- 
ing more  skillful  as  a  grammarian,  with  respect  to  every- 
thing placed  before  him. 

Soc.  jun. —  Evidently  as  regards  everything  (of  gram- 
mar). 

Guest. —  Has  the  inquiry  respecting  a  statesman  been  pro- 
posed by  us  more  for  the  sake  of  the  statesman  himself, 
than  for  ourselves  to  become  more  skillful  dialecticians 
on  every  point  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  This  too  is  evident,  that  (it  is  for  ourselves  to 
become  such)  on  every  point. 

Guest. —  No  one  indeed  indued  with  intellect  would  be 
willing  to  hunt  out  the  rationale  of  the  art  of  weaving, 
for  its  own  sake  alone.  But  I  think  it  has  lain  hid  from 
most  men,  that  to  some  things,  which  are  naturally  easy  to 
learn,  there  are  certain  similitudes  to  be  perceived  by  the 
senses,  which  it  is  not  difficult  to  make  manifest,  when  any 
one  wishes  to  point  them  out  to  some  one  inquiring  a 
reason  respecting  a  thing,  not  with  trouble,  but  easily 
without  a  (long)  speech.  But  of  things  the  greatest  and 
the  most  honored,  there  is  not  any  image  made  clear  for 
men,  by  which  being  shown,  he  who  wishes  to  fill  the 
soul  of  the  inquirer,  will  fill  it  sufficiently  by  suiting  it 
to  one  of  the  senses.  Hence  it  is  requisite  to  practice 
oneself  in  being  able  to  give  and  receive  a  reason  for 
everything.  For  incorporeal  natures,  being  the  most 
beautiful  and  the  greatest,  are  exhibited  by  reason  alone, 
and  by  nothing  else ;  and  it  is  for  this  that  all  has  been 
said  now.  But  the  consideration  of  every  particular  oc- 
curs more  easily  in  small  things  than  in  great. 

Soc.  jun. — You  speak  most  beautifully. 

Guest. —  Let  us  then  remember  that  all  these  things  have 
been  said  by  us  on  this  account. 

Soc.  jun.  —  On  what? 

Guest.  —  Not  the  least  on  account  of  the  disgust,  which 
we  have  felt  disgustingly  through  the  prolix  discourse 
about  the  weaving  art,  and  about  the  revolution  of  the 
universe,  and  that  of  the  sophist  about  the  existence  of 
a  nonentity,  conceiving  it  to  have  a  rather  (considerable) 


THE  STATESMAN 


43 


length.  And  on  all  these  accounts  we  reproached  our- 
selves, fearing-  lest  we  should  speak  superfluously  in  con- 
junction with  prolixity.  That  we  may  not  then  suffer 
anything  of  this  kind  again,  think  that  on  account  of 
all  these  things  our  former  remarks  have  been  made. 

Soc.  Jim. —  Be  it  so.    Only  say  what  is  in  order. 

Guest. — I  say  then,  it  is  requisite  that  both  you  and  I 
should  be  mindful  of  what  we  have  now  said,  and  to 
give  on  each  occasion  blame  and  praise  of  brevity  as  well 
as  prolixity  respecting  what  we  may  happen  to  be  speak- 
ing, not  judging  of  prolixities  with  reference  to  each 
other,  but  according  to  that  part  of  the  measuring  art, 
which  wo  then  said  we  ought  to  remember  relating  to 
the  becoming. 

Soc.  jun. — Right. 

Guest. — But  yet  all  things  are  not  (to  be  referred)  to 
this.  For  we  shall  not  be  in  need  of  prolixity,  which, 
as  regards  pleasure,  is  not  all  fitting,  unless  as  something 
of  no  importance:  on  the  other  hand,  as  regards  the 
search  of  what  has  been  proposed,  in  order  that  we  may 
find  it  most  easily,  and  quickly,  reason  bids  us  regard  it 
as  a  secondary,  not  primary  object;  but  to  honor  the 
most  and  in  the  first  place,  the  method  of  being  able  to 
divide  according  to  species;  and  to  pay  a  serious  regard 
to  a  discourse,  if  when  spoken  at  great  length  it  renders 
the  hearer  more  inventive ;  and  not  to  take  it  ill ;  and  in 
like  manner,  if  it  be  shorter.  And  still,  in  addition  to 
this,  (reason  says)  that  he  who  blames  long  discourses 
in  meetings  such  as  these,  and  who  does  not  admit  round- 
about periods,  must  not  dismiss  them  altogether,  rapidly, 
and  immediately,  by  abusing  merely  what  has  been  spoken 
at  great  length,  but  he  must  show  moreover  that  he 
thinks  that  (words)  being  shorter  would  render  persons 
coming  together  more  fitted  for  dialectics,  and  more  able 
to  discover  the  demonstration  by  reason  of  existing  things ; 
but  of  the  praise  and  blame  of  others  relating  to  any  other 
subjects  we  need  take  no  thought,  nor  appear  to  hear  at 
all  such  words  as  these.  [27.]  But  of  this  there  is  enough, 
if  so  it  seems  likewise  to  you.  Let  us  then  again  return 
to  the  statesman,  introducing  the  pattern  of  the  above- 
mentioned  weaving  art. 


44 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun.  —  You  speak  well;  and  let  us  do  as  you  say. 

Guest. —  Has  not  then  the  king  been  separated  from 
the  majority  (of  arts),  as  are  fellow-tending,  or  rather 
from  all  that  relate  to  herds  ?  But  the  remaining,  we 
say,  (are  those)  that  (belong  to)  the  co-causes,  and 
causes  relating  to  the  state  itself,  which  we  must  separate 
from  each  other. 

Soc.  jun. —  Right. 

Guest. —  You  know  then  that  it  is  difficult  to  bisect 
these ;  and  the  reason  will,  I  think,  as  we  advance  be  not 
the  less  apparent. 

Soc.  Jun. —  It  will  be  then  meet  to  do  so. 

Guest.  —  Let  us  then  separate  them  like  a  victim  piece- 
meal ;  since  we  cannot  do  so  by  a  bisection :  for  it  is  always 
requisite  to  cut  into  the  nearest  number  possible. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  then  shall  we  do  so  at  present  ? 

Guest. —  Just  as  before;  for  we  laid  down  as  co-causes 
whatever  (arts)  furnished  instruments  for  weaving. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Yes. 

Guest.  —  The  same  thing  therefore  we  must  do  now, 
and  still  more  than  then.  For  such  arts  as  fabricate, 
with  regard  to  a  state  instrument,  either  small  or  large, 
we  must  lay  down  all  of  them  as  co-causes;  since  without 
these  a  state  could  not  exist,  nor  yet  statesmanship.  But 
on  the  other  hand  we  will  not  lay  down  any  one  of  these 
as  the  work  of  kingship. 

Soc.  jun. — We  will  not. 

Guest.  —  And  yet  we  are  attempting  to  do  a  difficult 
thing,  in  separating  this  genus  from  the  rest.  For  if  it 
appears  that  he,  who  says  that  whatever  exists  is  an 
instrument  of  some  one  thing,  says  what  is  credible,  still 
on  the  other  hand  let  us  say  that  there  is  this  thing  differ- 
ent from  the  possessions  in  a  state. 

Soc.  jun. —  What  thing? 

Guest.  —  As  it  is  not  having  this  very  power.  For  that 
thing  is  not  put  together  like  an  instrument,  as  a  cause 
of  production,  but  for  the  safety  of  that  which  is  fabricated. 

Soc.  jun.  —  What  kind  of  thing  ? 

Guest.  —  That  thing,  which  being  worked  up  from  mate- 
rials dry  and  moist,  and  exposed  to  fire,  and  without  fire, 
is  a  species  of  varied  kind,  which  we  call  by  one  appella- 


THE  STATESMAN 


45 


tion,  a  vessel;  and  though  it  is  a  numerous  species,  it 
does  not  I  think  belong-  at  all  to  the  science  we  are 
seeking. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not  ? 

Guest. —  Of  these  possessions,  there  is  another  and 
third  species  very  numerous  to  be  looked  into,  being  on 
land  and  in  the  water  and  much-wandering  and  not- 
wandering,  and  honorable  and  dishonorable ;  but  possess- 
ing one  name,  because  the  whole  of  it  exists  for  the 
sake  of  a  certain  sitting,  as  becoming  always  a  seat  for 
something. 

Soc.  jun.  —  What  kind  of  thing  is  it  ? 

Guest. —  We  call  it  a  vehicle,  a  thing  not  at  all  the  work 
of  the  statesman's  science,  but  rather  more  of  the  carpen- 
ter, potter,  and  brass-founder. 

[28.]  Soc.  jun. — I  understand. 

Guest.  —  What  of  the  fourth  (species)  ?  Must  we  speak 
of  one  different  from  these,  in  which  the  most  of  the 
things  formerly  mentioned  are  contained;  every  kind  of 
dress,  the  greater  part  of  arms,  and  all  walls,  such  as  are 
thrown  round,  of  earth  or  stone,  and  ten  thousand  other 
things  ?  And  since  all  these  are  constructed  for  the  sake 
of  a  protection,  the  whole  may  most  justly  be  called  a 
defense ;  and  may,  for  the  most  part,  be  considered  much 
more  the  work  of  the  architect,  and  more  rightly  of  the 
weaver,  than  of  the  statesman. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. — Are  we  willing  to  rank  in  the  fifth  place  the 
arts  of  adorning  and  painting,  and  such  as  making  use 
of  it  (painting)  and  music,  finish  as  imitations,  fabricated 
for  our  pleasure,  and  which  may  be  justly  comprehended 
in  one  name  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  In  what  name? 

Guest. — They  may  be  surely  denominated  amusement, 
Soc.  jun. —  How  not  ? 

Guest. — This  one  name  then  will  suit,  when  pronounced, 
with  all  these :  for  not  one  of  these  things  is  done  through 
seriousness,  but  all  for  the  sake  of  amusement. 

Soc.  jun. — This  too  I  nearly  understand. 

Guest.  —  But  that,  which  prepares  for  all  these  materi- 
als bodies,  out  of  which  and  in  which,  whatever  arts 


46 


THE  STATESMAN 


have  now  been  mentioned,  manufacture  (something), 
shall  we  not  place  as  a  sixth  all-various  species,  the 
offspring  of  many  other  arts. 

Soc.  j'mi.  —  Of  what  (art)  are  you  speaking? 

Guest. — That  (which  furnishes)  gold  and  silver,  and 
other  substances  found  as  metals,  and  whatever  the  art 
of  felling  trees,  and  the  whole  of  the  clipping  art,  fur- 
nishes to  the  carpenter,  and  the  knitting  art,  and  still 
further  that  which  barks  trees,  and  takes  off  the  skins 
of  living  animals,  [the  currier's  art],  and  all  such  (arts) 
as  are  conversant  with  things  of  this  kind,  and  such  as 
working  on  corks,  and  papyrus-reeds,  and  withies,  furnish 
the  means  of  manufacturing  from  genera,  not  put  to- 
gether, species  that  are  put  together.  The  whole  of  this 
let  us  call  the  first-born  possession  of  man,  without  any 
putting  together,  and  by  no  means  the  work  of  the 
science  of  kingship. 

Soc.  Jim. —  Right. 

Guest. — The  possession  of  nutriment,  and  of  such  things 
as  when  mingled  with  the  body  possess  a  certain  power, 
by  their  parts,  to  be  subservient  to  the  parts  of  the 
body,  we  must  rank  in  the  seventh  place,  by  calling  it 
altogether  our  nurse,  unless  we  have  some  other  better 
name  to  give.  However,  we  will  place  the  whole  of  this 
under  agriculture,  hunting,  exercise,  medicine,  and  cook- 
ing, and  attribute  it  to  these  arts  more  properly  than  to 
the  science  of  the  statesman. 

[29.]  Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  Nearly  then  all,  whatsoever  is  connected  with 
possession,  with  the  exception  of  tame  animals,  has  I 
think,  been  mentioned  in  these  seven  genera.  But  con- 
sider. For  it  was  most  just  that  the  species  (called) 
first-born  should  be  placed  first;  and  after  this,  instru- 
ment, vessel,  vehicle,  protection,  amusement,  and  cattle. 
But  if  any  thing  of  no  great  consequence  has  escaped 
us,  which  it  is  possible  to  suit  onl}^  (with  difficulty)  to 
some  one  of  these,  we  omit  it;  such  as  the  idea  of  coin, 
of  seals,  and  of  every  thing  bearing  a  mark.  For  these 
things  have  not  in  themselves  a  genus  much  in  com- 
mon ;  but  some  will  agree  as  regards  ornament,  others 
as   regards   instruments,   drawn    (into    the  discussion) 


THE  STATESMAN 


47 


indeed  with  violence,  but  nevertheless  completely.  But 
the  tending  of  herds,  as  previously  divided,  will  appear  to 
have  comprehended  the  whole  possession  of  tame  ani- 
mals with  the  exception  of  slaves. 
Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest.  —  The  genus  of  slaves  and  of  all  servants  remains; 
among  whom  I  conjecture  will  become  apparent  those, 
who  engaged  in  the  very  thing  woven,  contend  with 
the  king  in  the  same  manner  as  those  above,  that  are 
engaged  in  knitting,  and  in  wool-combing,  and  in  such 
other  arts  as  we  then  mentioned,  did  with  the  weavers. 
But  all  the  rest,  spoken  of  as  co-causes,  have,  together 
with  the  works  just  now  mentioned,  been  done  away 
with,  and  separated  from  the  action  of  the  king  and 
statesman. 

Soc.  jun. —  So  they  seem. 

Guest.  —  Come  then,  let  us  approach  nearer,  and  con- 
sider the  rest,  that  we  may  perceive  them  more  firmly. 

Soc.  jun.  —  It  is  requisite  (to  do  30). 

Guest.  —  We  shall  find  then  that  the  greatest  servants, 
so  far  as  we  can  see  from  those  here,  are  in  a  pursuit, 
and  under  circumstances  the  very  contrary  to  what  we 
have  suspected. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Who  are  they? 

Guest.  —  They  who  are  purchased,  and  in  this  manner 
become  a  property;  whom,  beyond  all  controversy,  we 
may  call  slaves  and  laying  the  least  claim  to  the  kingly 
science. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not  ? 

Guest.  —  But  what  shall  we  say  of  those  free-born  per- 
sons, who  willingly  put  themselves  to  ministering  to  the 
parties  mentioned  just  now,  and  by  conveying  the  produce 
of  agriculture,  and  of  other  arts,  to  each  other,  and  by 
equalizing  the  possession  and  value  of  articles,  do  some 
at  ( home )  markets,  and  others  by  going  from  state  to 
state,  by  sea  and  land  exchange  coin  against  other  things, 
or  itself  against  itself  ( whom  we  have  called  money- 
changers, ship-owners,  and  hucksters),  will  these  contend 
for  any  part  of  the  statesman's  science  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  Perhaps  some  of  the  foreign  merchants  will. 

Guest. — And  yet  we  shall  never  find  those,  who  for 


48 


THE  STATESMAN 


wages  most  readily  become  servants  to  all  persons  laying 
any  claim  to  the  science  of  a  king. 
Soc.  jun. —  For  how  should  we? 

Guest.  —  What  then  (shall  we  say)  of  those,  that  do 
such  ministering  for  us  on  each  occasion. 

Soc.  jun. —  Of  what  and  whom  are  you  speaking? 

Guest. — I  speak  of  the  tribe  of  heralds,*  and  of  those 
who  become  accomplished  in  the  art  of  writing,!  and  often 
act  as  ministers,  and  certain  other  persons,  who  have 
very  great  talents  for  some  other  and  many  kinds  of 
business  connected  with  public  offices.  What  shall  we 
say  of  these  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  What  you  have  said  just  now,  that  they  are 
ministers,  but  no  rulers  in  states. 

Guest.  —  But  surely  I  was  not,  I  think,  seeing  a  vision, 
when  I  said  that  in  this  way,  perchance  would  be  seen 
those  strenuously  contending  for  the  science  of  a  statesman. 
And  yet  it  would  seem  to  be  very  absurd  to  seek  after 
these  in  any  ministering  portion. 

Soc.  jun. —  Very  much  so,  indeed. 

Guest.  —  Let  us  then  approach  still  nearer  to  those  who 
have  not  been  as  yet  examined.  Now  these  are  such  as  pos- 
sess a  certain  portion  of  ministering  science  relating  to  divin- 
ation. For  they  are  held  to  be  the  interpreters  of  gods  to  men. 

Soc.  jun. —  They  are. 

Guest. —  The  genus  too  of  priests,  as  the  law  says,  knows 
how  gifts  should  be  offered  by  us  through  sacrifices  to  the 
gods,  agreeably  to  them ;  and  how  we  should  request  of 
them  by  prayer  the  possession  of  good  things.  Now  both 
these  are  parts  of  the  ministering  art. 

*  The  persons  alluded  to  would  be  now  called  "diplomatists,"  as  is 
evident  from  the  Hippias  Major;  where  the  Pantologist  of  his  day  is 
said  to  have  been  frequently  employed  in  that  character. 

t  As  the  art  of  writing  was  in  ancient  times  known  only  to  a  few, 
such  persons  became  of  necessity  the  men  of  office  and  consideration  in 
the  state;  just  as  no  man  will  ever  become  the  prime  minister  of 
England,  unless  he  can  figure  as  a  debater.  For  though  nearly  every 
body  can  read  and  write,  yet  few  can  open  a  debate  with  a  long  speech, 
and  fewer  still  close  it  with  a  reply  to  the  different  argnments  urged  on 
the  opposite  side.  The  persons  to  whom  Plato  alludes  were  « Secre- 
taries,** or  "Under-Secretaries;**  who,  says  Aristophanes  in  the  Frogs^ 
1095,  while  they  amuse  the  people  with  monkey  tricks,  pick  their  pockets. 


THE  STATESMAN 


49 


[30.  ]  Soc.  j'un.  —  So  it  appears. 

Guest.  —  Now  then  we  seem  to  me  to  touch,  as  it  were, 
upon  some  foot-print  of  the  object  to  which  we  are  on  the 
road.  For  the  figure  of  priests  and  prophets  is  replete 
with  prudence,  and  obtains  a  reputation  for  respect 
through  the  greatness  of  the  matters  in  their  hands;  so 
that  in  Egypt  it  is  not  permitted  for  a  king  to  govern 
without  the  sacerdotal  science ;  and  should  any  one  pre- 
viously of  another  genus*  of  men  become  by  violence 
(the  king),  he  is  afterward  compelled  to  be  initiated  in 
the  mysteries  of  this  genus.  Further  still  among  the 
Greeks,  one  may  find  in  many  places  that  the  greatest 
sacrifices  relating  to  matters  of  this  kind  are  imposed  upon 
the  greatest  offices;  and  what  I  assert  is  shown  particu- 
larly among  you.  For  to  him  who  is  chosen  by  lot  the 
king  here,f  they  say  that  of  all  the  ancient  sacrifices, 
those  held  in  the  highest  veneration  and  most  peculiar 
to  the  country  are  assigned. 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest.  —  We  must  then  consider  these  kings  chosen  by 
lot,  together  with  the  priests,  and  their  ministers,  and  a 
certain  other  very  numerous  crowd,  which  has  just  now  be- 
come manifest  to  us,  apart  from  those  previously  mentioned. 

Soc.  jun. —  Of  whom  are  you  speaking? 

Guest. —  Of  certain  very  strange  persons. 

Soc.  jun. — Why  so  ? 

Guest. —  As  I  was  just  now  speculating,  their  genus 
appeared  to  me  to  be  all  kinds.  JFor  many  men  resem- 
ble lions  and  centaurs,  and  other  things  of  this  kind; 
and  very  many  are  similar  to  satyrs,  and  to  weak  and 
versatile  wild  beasts.  They  likewise  rapidly  change  their 
forms  and  their  power  into  each  other.  J    And  indeed, 

*The  modern  name  is  « caste, »  still  found  in  Hindostan;  where  have 
been  preserved  not  a  few  of  the  customs  of  Egypt. 

f  The  second  archon  at  Athens  was  called  <<the  king,»  and  had  cog- 
nizance over  tbe  principal  religious  festivals. 

X  —  X  With  this  passage  in  Plato  may  be  compared  that  in  Shakespeare, 
where  Hamlet  thus  amuses   himself   at   the  expense  of  Polonius. 

Ham. —  Do  you  see  yonder  cloud  that  is  almost  in  the  shape  of  a 
camel?    Pol. — By  the  mass,  and  it  is  like  a  camel,  indeed.    Ham. — 
Methinks  it  is  like  a  weasel.    Pol.  —  It  is  backed  like  a  weasel.    Ham. — 
Or  like  a  whale.    Pol. —  Very  like  a  whale.* 
4 


5° 


THE  STATESMAN 


Socrates,  I  appear  to  myself  to  have  just  now  perceived 
these  men  for  the  first  time. 

Soc.  jiin. — Speak;  for  you  seem  to  see  something 
strange. 

Guest. —  I  do;  for  what  is  strange  is  the  result  of  igno- 
rance in  the  case  of  all.*  And  I  myself  just  now  suffered 
the  very  same  thing:  for  I  was  suddenly  involved  in 
doubt  on  seeing  the  dancing-troop  relating  to  the  state 
affairs. 

Soc.  j'un. —  Of  what  kind  ? 

Guest. —  The  greatest  wizard  of  all  the  wise,  and  the 
most  skilled  in  this  art;  who  must  be  separated  from  the 
really  existing  statesmen  and  kings,  although  it  is  very 
difficult  so  to  separate  him,  if  we  are  about  to  see  clearly 
the  object  of  our  search. 

Soc.  j'un. — We  must  not  give  up  this,  at  least. 

Guest. —  Not,  indeed,  according  to  my  opinion:  but  tell 
me  this. 

[31.]  Soc.  jun.  —  What? 

Guest. —  Is  not  a  monarchy  one  of  the  forms  of  state-rule? 
Soc.  jun. —  It  is. 

Guest. —  And  after  a  monarchy  one  would,   I  think, 
speak  of  an  oligarchy. 
Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest.  —  But  is  not  the  rule  of  the  many  called  by  the 
name  of  a  democracy,  'a  third  form  of  state-polity  ? 
Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  Do  not  these  being  three  become  after  a 
manner  five,  by  two  producing  from  themselves  two 
other  names  in  addition  to  their  own  ? 

Soc.  jun. — What? 

Guest. — They  who  look  to  the  violent  and  the  volun- 
tary, to  poverty  and  wealth,  to  law  and  lawlessness, 
which  take  place  in  them,  give  a  twofold  division  to  each 
one  of  the  two,  and  call  monarchy,  as  exhibiting  two 
species,  by  two  names,  one  tyranny,  the  other  royalty. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  But  the  state  ever  governed  by  a  few,  (we  call) 
an  aristocracy  and  an  oligarchy. 

*  So  Johnson  said  that  wonder  was  the  effect  of  novelty  upon  igno- 
rance. 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  But  of  a  democracy,  whether  the  people  govern 
the  rich  violently,  or  with  their  consent,  and  whether 
they  strictly  guard  the  laws  or  not,  no  one  is  ever  accus- 
tomed to  change  the  name  at  all. 

Soc.  jun.  —  True. 

Guest.  —  What,  then?  Do  we  think  that  any  one  of 
these  state-polities  is  right,  thus  bounded  by  these  defi- 
nitions, such  as  by  one,  and  a  few,  and  a  many,  and  by 
wealth  and  poverty,  by  the  violent  and  the  voluntary, 
and  happening  to  exist  by  statutes  and  without  laws  ? 

Soc.  Jun. — What  should  hinder? 

Guest. —  Consider  more  attentively,  following  me  by  this 
road. 

Soc.  jun. —  What  road? 

Guest. —  Shall  we  abide  by  what  was  asserted  at  first, 
or  shall  we  dissent  from  it  ? 

Soc.  Jun. —  To  what  assertion  are  you  alluding? 

Guest. —  I  think  we  said  that  a  regal  government  was 
one  of  the  sciences. 

Soc.  Jun. — Yes. 

Guest. — Yet  not  one  of  those  taken  together  as  a  whole; 
but  we  selected  it  from  the  other  sciences,  as  something 
judicial  and  presiding. 

Soc.  Jun.  —  Yes. 

Guest.  —  And  from  the  presiding  science  (we  selected) 
one  part  as  belonging  to  inanimate  acts,  and  the  other  as 
belonging  to  animals.  And  dividing  after  this  fashion, 
we  have  arrived  thus  far,  not  forgetful  of  science,  but 
unable  to  determine  with  sufficient  accuracy  what  sci- 
ence is. 

Soc.  Jun. —  You  say  rightly. 

Guest. —  Do  we  then  understand  this  very  thing,  that 
the  definition  must  be  respecting  them,  not  (as  regards) 
the  few,  nor  the  many,  nor  the  voluntary  or  involuntary, 
nor  poverty  or  wealth,  but  (as  regards)  a  certain  science, 
if  we  follow  what  has  been  formerly  detailed  ? 

[32.]  Soc.  Jun. —  It  is  impossible,  indeed,  not  to  do  this. 

Guest. —  We  must  of  necessity  then  consider  now  this; 
in  which  of  these  does  the  science  respecting  the  govern- 
ment of  men  happen  to  exist,  being  nearly  the  greatest 


52 


THE  STATESMAN 


and  most  difficult  to  obtain.  For  it  is  requisite  to  inspect 
it,  that  we  may  perceive  who  are  the  parties  we  must 
take  away  from  a  prudent  king,  who  lay  claim  to  be 
statesmen,  and  persuade  the  multitude  (of  it),  and  yet 
are  so  not  at  all. 

Soc.  jtm.  —  We  must  do  so,  as  the  reasoning  has  pre- 
viously told  us. 

Guest. —  Does  it  then  appear  to  you  that  the  mass  in 
a  city  is  able  to  acquire  this  science  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  can  they? 

Guest. —  But  in  a  city  of  a  thousand  men,  is  it  possible 
for  a  hundred,  or  even  fifty,  to  acquire  it  sufficiently? 

Soc.  jun.  — It  would  be  then  the  most  easy  of  all  arts. 
For  we  know  that  among  a  thousand  men  there  could  not 
be  found  so  many  tip-top  draught-players  as  compared 
with  those  in  the  rest  of  Greece,  much  less  kings.  For, 
according  to  our  former  reasoning,  we  must  call  him,  who 
possesses  the  science  of  a  king,  whether  he  governs  or  not, 
a  regal  character. 

Guest.  —  You  have  very  properly  reminded  me.  And  I 
think  it  follows  from  this,  that  a  right  government,  when 
it  exists  rightly,  ought  to  be  investigated  as  about  one 
person,  or  two,  or  altogether  about  a  few. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not  ? 

Guest. — And  we  must  hold,  as  we  think  now,  that  these 
exercise  rule  according  to  a  certain  art,  whether  they 
govern  the  willing  or  the  unwilling,  whether  according 
to  statutes  or  without  statutes,  and  whether  they  are  rich 
or  poor.  For  we  have  considered  those  as  not  the  less 
physicians,  whether  they  cure  us,  willing  or  unwilling, 
by  cutting,  or  burning,  or  applying  any  other  pain;  and 
whether  according  to  written  rules  or  not,  and  whether 
they  are  themselves  poor  or  rich.  In  all  (these  cases)  we 
say  that  they  are  no  less  physicians,  so  long  as  they  stand 
over  (the  patient)*  according  to  art,  purging  or  some  other 
way  attenuating  (the  body),  or  in  causing  (it)  to  increase, 
and  so  long  as,  for  the  good  of  the  body  alone,  they 
bring  it  from  a  worse  to  a  better  state,  and  by  attending 
preserve  each  (body)  attended  to.    After  this  manner, 

*This  word  is  graphically  applied  here  to  a  physician  standing 
over  the  bed  of  the  patient. 


THE  STATESMAN 


53 


and  in  no  other,  as  I  think,  we  will  lay  down  that  the 
definition  of  the  medicinal  or  any  other  rule  is  rightly  made. 
Soc.  j'jcn.  —  And  very  much  so. 

[33.]  Guest. —  It  is  necessary,  then,  as  it  seems,  that  of 
polities  that  must  be  pre-eminently  correct,  and  the  only 
polity,  in  which  the  governors  are  found  to  possess  science 
truly,  and  not  in  appearance  merely;  whether  they  rule 
according  to  laws  or  without  laws,  over  the  willing  or  the 
unwilling,  and  are  themselves  poor  or  rich.  For  not  one 
of  these  things  must  we  consider  at  all,  as  regards  any 
rectitude  (of  government). 

Soc.  j'un. —  Beautifully  (said). 

Guest.  —  And  whether  they  purge  the  state  to  its  good, 
by  putting  to  death  or  banishing  certain  persons;  or  by 
sending  out  colonies  some  where,  like  a  swarm  of  bees, 
they  reduce  it  to  a  less  size;  or  whether  by  introducing 
some  others  from  abroad  they  make  citizens  of  them, 
and  thus  increase  its  size,  so  long  as  by  making  use  of 
science  aiad  justice,  they  preserve  it,  and  cause  it  to  the 
utmost  of  their  power  to  pass  from  a  worse  condition  to 
a  better  one,  then,  and  according  to  such  limits,  must 
we  speak  of  a  polity  as  alone  rightly  existing.  But  we 
must  say  that  such  others,  as  we  have  mentioned,  are 
not  genuine,  nor  do  they  in  reality  exist;  but  that  those, 
which  we  call  well-regulated,  imitate  this  for  the  better, 
the  others  for  the  worse. 

Soc.  JU71. —  The  other  points,  O  guest,  appear  to  have 
been  stated  with  moderation:  but  that  it  is  requisite 
to  govern  without  laws,  has  been  stated  as  a  thing 
rather  harsh  to  hear. 

Guest.  —  You  have  anticipated  me  a  little,  Socrates, 
by  your  question.  For  I  was  about  to  ask  you,  whether 
you  admit  all  these  points,  or  whether  )"ou  find  any 
difficulty  in  any  matter  that  has  been  stated.  It  is 
however  evident,  that  we  now  wish  to  discuss  the  point  re- 
specting the  rectitude  of  those,  who  govern  without 
laws. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest.  —  After  a  certain  manner  it  is  evident  that 
legislation  is  a  part  of  the  science  of  a  king:  but  it 
is  best,  not  for  the  laws  to  prevail,  but  for  a  man, 


54 


THE  STATESMAN 


who  has  with  prudence  the  power  of  a  king.  Do  you 
know  in  what  way  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  In  what  way  do  you  mean? 

Guest. —  Because  the  law  cannot,  by  comprehending 
that  which  is  the  best  and  most  accurately  just  in  all 
cases,  at  the  same  time  ordain  what  is  the  best.  For 
the  inequalities  of  men  and  their  actions,  and  the  fact 
that  not  a  single  atom,  so  to  say,  of  human  affairs, 
enjoys  a  state  of  rest,  do  not  permit  any  art  what- 
ever to  exhibit  in  any  case  any  thing  simple  (without 
exception)  respecting  all  matters  and  through  all  time. 
Shall  we  admit  this  ? 

Soc.  Jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  And  yet  we  see  the  law  tending  nearly  to 
this  very  point;  and,  like  a  certain  self-willed  and  ig- 
norant man,  it  does  not  suffer  any  person  to  do  any 
thing  contrary  to  its  own  orders,  nor  to  put  a  ques- 
tion, not  even  should  something  new  happen  to  be  in 
some  case  better  as  compared  with  the  decree  it  had 
ordained. 

Soc.  Jun.  —  True.  For  the  law  does  really  so,  as  you 
have  just  now  said,  to  each  of  us. 

Guest. —  Is  it  not  then  impossible  for  that,  which  is 
under  all  cases  simple,  to  do  well  in  cases  which  are 
never  at  any  time  simple  ? 

Soc.  Jun. — It  appears  so  nearly. 

[34.]  Guest.  —  Why  then  is  it  necessary  to  lay  down 
laws  ?  since  law  is  not  a  thing  of  the  greatest  rectitude. 
Of  this  we  must  inquire  the  cause. 

Soc.  Jun. —  How  not? 

Guest.  —  Are  there  not  then  amongst  us,  as  in  other 
cities  likewise,  certain  exercises  of  men  collected  together 
for  the  sake  of  competition  relating  to  running  or  some- 
thing else  ? 

Soc.  Jun. —  Yes.    There  are  very  many. 

Guest. —  Come  then,  let  us  again  recall  to  our  memory 
the  orders  of  those  who  practice  scientifically  exercises 
in  meetings  of  this  kind. 

Soc.  Jun.  —  What  is  this? 

Guest.  —  They  do  not  conceive  it  is  requisite  to  be  very 
fine  in  ordering,  according  to  each  individual^  what  is 


THE  STATESMAN 


55 


suited  to  the  body  of  each ;  but  think  more  stupidly,  that 
they  ought  to  make  their  arrangements  of  what  benefits 
the  body,  suited  to  the  majority  of  circumstances  and 
persons. 

Soc.  j'un. —  Excellent. 

Guest. — On  which  account  assigning  now  equal  labors 
to  persons  collected  together,  they  urge  them  on  together, 
and  stop  them  together  in  the  race,  and  wrestling,  and 
all  the  labors  of  the  body. 

Soc.  j'un.  —  Such  is  the  fact. 

Guest.  —  Let  us  hold  then,  that  the  legislator  who 
would  preside  over  his  herds  in  matters  of  justice,  and 
their  contracts  with  each  other,  will  never  be  sufficient 
for  all  collectively,  by  accurately  enjoining  upon  each 
individual  what  is  fitting. 

Soc.  jun.  —  This  is  likely. 

Guest. —  But  I  think  he  will  establish  laws  suited  to  the 
majority  of  persons  and  circumstances,  and  somehow  thus 
in  more  stupid  way  for  each,  delivering  them  in  writ- 
ings, and  in  an  unwritten  (form),  and  legislating  accord- 
ing to  the  customs  of  the  countr3^ 

Soc.  y?/w.— Right. 

Guest.  —  Right  indeed.  For  how,  Socrates,  can  any  one 
be  so  all-sufficient,  as,  by  sitting  near  through  the  whole 
of  life,  to  enjoin  accurately  what  is  adapted  to  each  ? 
Since,  although  an^^  one  soever  of  those  who  possess  the 
science  of  a  king  could,  I  think,  do  this,  he  would 
scarcely  impose  on  himself  impediments,  by  writing  down 
the  so-called  laws. 

Soe.  jun. —  (So  it  appears),  O  guest,  from  what  has 
been  now  said. 

Guest. — And  still  more,  O  thou  best  one,  from  what 
will  be  said. 

Soc.  jun.  —  What  is  that? 

Guest.  —  Of  this  kind.  For  let  us  thus  say  to  ourselves. 
"Would  not  a  physician,  or  any  teacher  of  gymnastics, 
being  about  to  travel,  and  to  be  absent  as  he  fancied 
from  those  under  his  care  for  a  long  time,  and  thinking 
that  those  engaged  in  exercises,  or  sick,  would  not  re- 
member his  precepts,  be  willing  to  write  something  to 
refresh  their  memory?    Or  how  (would  he  act)? 


56 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun. —  In  this  way. 

Guest. —  But  what,  if  the  physician,  having  been  abroad 
a  less  time  than  he  expected,  should  come  back,  would 
he  not  dare  to  suggest  certain  other  things  besides  those 
contained  in  his  writings,  other  circumstances  occurring 
more  favorable  for  the  sick,  through  winds,  or  any  thing 
else  of  those  that  are  wont  to  take  place  from  Zeus  (the 
air),  contrary  to  expectation  ?  Would  he  think  that  he 
ought  to  persevere  in  not  going  out  of  his  old  injunc- 
tions, and  neither  himself  order  other  things,  nor  dare 
to  do  to  the  sick  man  things  different  from  what  had 
been  written,  as  if  these  were  medicinal  and  salubrious, 
but  those  of  a  different  kind  noxious,  and  not  according 
to  art  ?  Or  rather,  would  not  everything  of  this  kind, 
occurring  according  to  science  and  true  art,  in  all  mat- 
ters become  altogether  the  greatest  ridicule  of  such  in- 
junctions ? 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  But  shall  not  he,  who  writes  down  what  is  just 
and  unjust,  beautiful  and  base,  good  and  evil,  and  who 
establishes  unwritten  laws  for  the  herds  of  human  beings 
who  live  in  cities,  in  each  according  to  the  laws  of  those 
who  have  written  them,  whether  he  comes  himself  (back) 
after  having  written  (laws)  contrary  to  art,  or  some  other 
like  him,  be  permitted  to  enjoin  things  different  from 
these  ?  Or  would  not  this  interdiction  appear  to  be  in 
reality  no  less  ridiculous  than  the  former  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

[35.]  Guest. —  Do  you  know  then  the  language  spoken 
by  the  multitude  respecting  such  a  thing  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  I  have  it  not  at  present  in  my  mind. 

Guest. — And  yet  it  is  very  specious.  For  they  say  that, 
if  any  one  knows  of  laws  better  than  those  of  their  ances- 
tors, such  a  person  should,  after  persuading  his  own  state, 
become  a  legislator;  otherwise  not. 

Soc.  jun. —  Do  they  not  then  (say)  rightly? 

Guest. —  Perhaps  so.  But  if  any  one  should,  not  by 
persuasion,  force  on  the  better,  what  would  be  the  name 
of  this  violence  ?  Do  not,  however,  (say)  a  word,  but  pre- 
viously respecting  the  former. 

Soc.  jun. — What  do  you  mean  ? 


THE  STATESMAN 


57 


Guest.  —  Should  some  one,  not  by  persuading  a  person 
under  a  physician,  but  by  possessing  his  art  correctly, 
compel  a  boy,  or  a  man,  or  a  woman,  contrary  to  pre- 
scriptions, to  do  that  which  is  better,  what  will  be  the 
name  of  this  violence  ?  Ought  it  not  to  be  called  rather 
anything  than  some  mischievous  transgression  of  art  ? 
And  is  it  not  for  us  to  say,  that  everything  (has  hap- 
pened) to  the  compelled  person,  rather  than  that  he  has 
Buffered  anything  mischievous  and  without  art  from  the 
compelling  physicians  ? 

Soc.  jun. — You  speak  most  true. 

Guest. — But  what  is  that  error  called  by  us,  which  is 
contrary  to  the  statesman's  art  ?  Must  it  not  be  the  base, 
evil,  and  unjust  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Gtiest. —  Of  those,  who  have  been  forced  to  act  contrary 
to  the  written  precepts,  and  the  customs  of  the  country, 
more  justly,  better,  and  more  beautifully  than  before, 
come,  (tell  me),  (can  any  one),  unless  he  is  about  to  be 
the  most  ridiculous  of  all  men,  (pronounce)  a  disapproba- 
tion of  such  violence  done  to  such  persons  ?  Must  it  not 
be  said  rather  by  him  on  each  occasion,  that  they,  who 
have  been  forced,  have  suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  forc- 
ing party  everything,  except  what  is  base,  unjust,  and 
evil  ? 

Soc.  jun.— Yon  speak  most  true. 

Guest. —  But  if  he  who  forces  is  rich,  will  the  acts  done 
forcibly  by  him  be  just,  but,  if  he  is  poor,  unjust  ?  Or, 
whether  a  person  persuades  or  does  not  persuade,  (whether) 
rich  or  poor,  and  (whether)  according  or  contrary  to 
written  statutes,  he  does  what  is  useful,  must  this  be  the 
definition  the  most  true  on  all  sides  of  the  correct  admin- 
istration of  a  state,  by  which  a  wise  and  good  man  will 
(well)  administer  the  interests  of  those  under  his  charge ; 
just  as  a  pilot  watches  over  whatever  happens  to  conduce 
to  the  welfare  of  the  vessel  and  crew ;  and  not  by  laying 
down  written  orders,  but  by  making  his  skill  a  law,  he 
preserves  his  fellow-sailors.  And  thus  [after  this  very 
same  manner],  will  an  upright  polity  be  produced  by 
those  who  are  able  to  govern  thus,  by  exhibiting  a 
Strength  of  skill  superior  to  the  laws.    And  indeed  in 


THE  STATESMAN 


the  case  of  prudent  rulers  there  will  be  no  error,  let 
them  do  everything ;  as  long  as  they  observe  this  one  great 
maxim,  to  distribute  ever  with  intellect  and  art  to  those 
in  the  state  what  is  the  most  just,  to  keep  them  such  as 
they  are,  and  to  finish  by  rendering  them,  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, better  instead  of  worse. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  not  possible  to  say  the  contrary  to  what 
has  been  now  asserted. 

Guest — Nor  yet  against  those  who  say  even  a  word. 

[36].    Soc.  jun.  —  Of  what  are  you  speaking? 

Guest — That  no  mob  of  any  persons  whatever  can 
receive  this  kind  of  science,  and  be  able  to  administer 
with  intellect  a  state,  but  that  we  must  seek  for  a  correct 
polity  among  a  small  number,  and  a  few,  and  one  per- 
son; and  that  we  must  lay  down  other  polities  as  imita- 
tions, as  we  observed  a  little  before,  some  for  the  better, 
and  some  for  the  worse. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  and  why  say  you  this?  For  I  did  not 
understand  just  now  forsooth,  the  remark  respecting 
imitations. 

Guest. —  Truly  it  were  not  a  stupid  act  for  a  person, 
after  starting  an  argument  of  this  kind,  to  lay  it  down 
there,  and  not,  by  going  through  it,  to  show  the  error 
which  at  present  exists  about  it. 

Soc.  jun. —  What  error  ? 

Guest. —  It  is  meet  to  search  into  a  thing  of  such  a 
kind  as  is  not  very  usual,  nor  easy  to  perceive ;  but  at 
the  same  time  we  must  endeavor  to  apprehend  it.  For, 
come,  since  the  polity  of  which  we  have  spoken  is  the 
only  correct  one,  you  know  that  other  polities  ought  to 
be  thus  preserved,  while  they  use  the  institutions  of  this, 
and  do  what  was  just  now  praised,  though  it  is  not  most 
right  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  What  is  that? 

Guest.  —  That  no  one  of  those  in  the  city  dare  to  do 
anything  contrary  to  the  laws;  and  that  he  who  dares, 
shall  pay  the  forfeit  by  death,  and  all  the  extreme  of 
punishments.*    This  too  is  most  right  and  beautiful,  as  a 

*This  alludes  to  the  confiscation  of  property,  and  the  prohibition 
of  burial,  which,  as  seen  by  the  Ajax  and  Antigone  of  Sophocles, 
was  considered  the  extreme  of  punishment. 


THE  STATESMAN 


59 


second  thing;  after  that  some  one  shall  have  first  changed 
the  just  now  said.  But  in  what  manner  that,  which  we 
have  called  second,  exists,  let  us  proceed  to  state.  Shall 
we  not  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  By  all  means. 

[37.]  Guest.  —  Let  us  then  again  return  to  the  images, 
to  which  it  is  ever  necessary  to  assimilate  kingly  rulers. 
Soc.  jun.  —  Of  what  kind? 

Guest. —  The  noble-minded  pilot,  and  the  physician, 
who  is  of  equal  worth  with  many  others.  Let  us  then, 
after  molding  from  these  (two)  a  certain  figure,  con- 
template it. 

Soc.  Jun.  —  Of  what  kind  ? 

Guest. —  Such  a  one,  as  if  we  all  conceived  that  we  are 
suffering  the  most  dreadful  things  from  them.  For  such 
of  us  as  either  of  them  wish  to  save,  they  do  equally  save ; 
and  such  as  they  wish  to  injure,  they  injure  by  cutting  and 
burning,  at  the  same  time  ordering  us  to  bring  to  them 
the  means  of  expense,  as  a  tribute,  of  which  they  spend 
on  the  sick  little  or  even  nothing,  but  they  and  their 
domestics  make  use  of  the  rest.  And  lastly,  receiving 
money  (as)  wages,  from  either  the  kindred  or  some  enemies 
of  the  sick  man,  they  cause  him  to  die.  They  too  who 
have  the  command  of  a  vessel,  do  ten  thousand  other  things 
of  this  kind.  For  after  some  plotting,  when  out  at  sea, 
they  leave  persons  deserted,  and,  committing  errors  at  sea, 
hurl  them  into  the  sea,  and  do  them  other  mischief.  If 
then,  reflecting  on  these  matters,  we  should  enter  into 
some  consultation  respecting  them,  (so  that)  we  should  no 
longer  permit  either  of  those  arts  to  have  an  absolute 
control  over  slaves  or  the  free-bom ;  but  that  we  should 
collect  together  an  assembly  consisting  of  ourselves  or  all 
the  people,  or  the  rich  alone ;  and  that  it  should  be  lawful 
for  private  individuals,  and  the  rest  of  the  operatives,  to 
bring  together  their  opinions  respecting  sailing  and  dis- 
eases, as  to  what  manner  it  is  meet  to  use  medicines  and 
medical  instruments  for  those  that  are  ill;  and  moreover, 
(how  to  use)  both  the  vessels  themselves  and  nautical 
instruments  for  the  requirements  of  vessels  in  case  of 
danger  during  the  voyage  from  winds  and  the  sea  and  the 
meeting  with  pirates,  and,  if  requisite,  in  fighting  with 


6o 


THE  STATESMAN 


long  ships*  ag'ainst  others  of  the  like  kind;  and  that,  what 
shall  have  been  decreed  by  the  multitiide  on  these  points, 
by  the  advice  of  physicians  and  pilots,  or  of  other  unskilled 
individuals,  persons  should  inscribe  in  triangular  tables  f 
and  pillars,  and  laying  down  other  unwritten  regulations, 
as  the  customs  of  the  country,  it  should  be  necessary  to 
navigate  vessels  in  all  future  times  according  to  this 
method,  and  to  administer  remedies  to  the  sick. 

Soc.  j'jin. —  You  have  mentioned  things  really  very 
absurd. 

Guest. —  Further,  that  rulers  of  the  people  should  be 
appointed  yearly,  whoever  may  be  chosen  by  lot  from  the 
rich  or  from  all  the  people;  and  that  the  rulers  so  ap- 
pointed should  rule  according  to  the  written  regulations, 
like  pilots  over  vessels  and  physicians  over  the  sick. 

Soc.  jiin. — These  things  are  still  more  harsh. 

[38.]  Guest.  —  Let  us  see  now  after  this  what  follows. 
For  when  the  year  of  each  govornor  shall  have  expired, 
it  will  be  necessary  to  appoint  tribi;nals  of  persons,  taken 
either  by  a  selection  from  the  rich  or  from  all  the  people 
by  lot,  and  to  bring  the  rulers  before  them  and  to  pass 
their  accounts,  and  for  any  one  to  accuse  them  for  not 
having  acted,  during  his  year,  the  pilot,  according  to  the 
written  regulations,  nor  according  to  the  old  customs  of 
their  forefathers;  and  for  the  very  same  things  to  take 
place  in  the  case  of  those  healing  the  sick;  and  that 
whoever  of  them  should  be  convicted,  certain  persons 
should  fix  what  the  party  must  suffer  (in  person)  or  pay 
(in  purse). 

Soc.  jun. — Would  not  he,  who  is  ready  of  his  own 
accord  to  be  a  ruler  under  such  circumstances,  most 
justly  suffer  (in  person)  and  pay  (in  purse)  ? 

♦Amongst  the  ancients,  ships  of  war  werf  long,  those  of  commerce 
more  round. 

f  The  tablet  called  Khpfiic  had  three  faces  forming  a  triangle,  fixed  to 
a  centre  pole,  called  the  a^uv,  and  on  each  face  was  laid,  probably,  a 
volume  of  the  laws  originallj;^  relating  to  religious  matters,  but  subse- 
quently to  civil  likewise.  Such  tablets  were  once  found  in  Christian 
churches ;  and  the  priest,  or  rather  some  clerical  assistant  in  the  charac. 
ter  of  a  canon  or  a  chori.ster,  used  to  chant  from  it  the  Psalms,  and  to 
read  the  two  Lessons  of  the  morning  or  evening  service,  which  were 
placed  respectively  on  the  three  faces  of  the  tablet. 


THE  STATESMAN 


6i 


Guest.  —  Further  still,  it  will  be  necessary  to  make  a 
law  on  all  these  points,  that,  if  any  one  be  proved  to  be 
seeking  out  the  art  relating  to  piloting  and  ships  in  gen- 
eral, or  to  health,  and  the  truth  of  the  physician's  theory 
about  winds,  heat,  and  cold,  contrary  to  the  written  reg- 
ulations, or  devising  anything  whatever  about  affairs  of 
this  kind,  he  shall,  in  the  first  place,  be  called  neither 
as  one  skilled  in  physicking  or  piloting,  but  a  talker  of 
matters  on  high,  or  some  babbler;  and  that,  in  the  next 
place,  it  shall  be  lawful  for  any  one  to  write  down  an 
indictment  against  him  for  lawlessness,  and  to  bring  him 
before  some  court  of  justice,  as  corrupting  the  younger, 
and  persuading  the  silly  to  put  their  hands  to  the  arts 
of  a  pilot  and  a  physician  not  according  to  the  laws,  and 
to  rule  self-willed  over  vessels  and  the  sick;  and  that  if 
any  one  shall  be  found  persuading  either  young  or  old 
men,  contrary  to  the  laws,  and  the  written  regulations, 
(it  shall  be  lawful)  to  punish  him  with  the  extreme  (of 
punishments).  For  no  one  ought  to  be  wiser  than  the 
laws ;  nor  on  the  other  hand,  should  any  one  be  ignorant 
of  the  arts  of  medicine  and  of  healing,  nor  of  piloting 
and  shipping,  (according  to)  the  written  regulations  and 
the  customs  laid  down  of  the  country;  for  he  who  wishes 
may  learn.  If  then,  Socrates,  this  should  take  place 
about  the  sciences  we  mentioned,  and  we  should  look 
into  any  portion  of  the  general's  art,  and  the  whole  of 
any  kind  of  hunting,  and  of  painting,  or  of  imitation  in 
general,  and  carpentry,  and  the  formation  in  general  of 
instruments  of  any  kind,  and  of  agriculture,  and  the  art 
relating  to  plants  in  general ;  or,  again,  into  the  care  of 
breeding  horses,  according  to  written  regulations,  and 
herds  of  cattle  of  every  kind,  and  prophecy,  and  all  the 
portion  that  the  ministering  art  embraces,  the  playing  at 
games  of  dice,  the  whole  of  arithmetic,  (whether)  simple 
or  (relating  to)  a  plane,  either  in  depth,  or  swiftness; 
(if)  respecting  all  these  things  (it  were)  so  done,  what 
wouid  appear  produced  according  to  written  regulations, 
and  not  according  to  art  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  evident  that  all  arts  would  be  entirely 
subverted,  nor  would  they  exist  again,  through  such  a 
law  forbidding  one  to  investigate.    So  that  life,  which  is 


62 


THE  STATESMAN 


now  difficult,  would  at  that  time  become  utterly  unable 

to  be  endured. 

[39.]  Guest. —  But  what  (will  you  say)  to  this?  If  we 
should  compel  each  of  the  above-mentioned  to  take  place 
according  to  written  regulations,  and  should  appoint  as 
the  guardian  of  these  statutes  a  man  either  chosen  by 
suffrage,  or  chance,  but  who,  giving  no  thought  to  them, 
either  for  the  sake  of  a  certain  gain,  or  private  pleasure, 
should  endeavor,  although  knowing  nothing,  to  act  con- 
trary to  these  statutes,  would  not  this  be  a  still  greater 
evil  than  the  former  ? 

Soc.  jun  — Most  truly  so. 

Guest. —  For  he,  who  should  dare  to  act  contrary  to 
those  laws,  which  have  been  laid  down  after  much  ex- 
perience, (or)  through  certain  advisers  recommending 
each  in  a  pleasant  manner,  and  persuading  the  people  to 
pass  them,  will  commit  an  error  many-fold  greater  than  an 
error,  and  subvert  every  process  much  more  than  written 
statutes. 

Soc.  jun  —  How  is  he  not  about  (to  do  so)  ? 

Guest  —  Hence  there  is  a  second  sailing,  as  is  said,  for 
those  that  establish  laws  and  statutes  respecting  any  thing 
whatever,  that  is,  not  to  suffer  any  one  person,  or  the 
multitude,  to  do  any  thing  of  any  kind  at  any  time  con- 
trary to  them. 

Soc.  Jun. —  Right. 

Guest.  —  Will  not  these  statutes  then,  written  by  men  in- 
telligent as  far  as  their  power  permits,  be  imitations  of 
the  truth  of  each  of  these  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  And  yet,  if  we  remember,  we  said  that  the 
man  who  is  in  reality  a  statesman,  would,  being  in- 
telligent, do  many  things  from  art,  in  reference  to  his 
own  course  of  action  without  giving  a  thought  to  statutes, 
when  other  things  seem  to  him  better  than  what  had 
been  written  by  himself  and  enjoined  upon  some  persons 
absent. 

Soc.  jun. —  We  did  say  so. 

Guest.  —  Would  not  then  any  single  man  whatever,  or 
any  people  whatever,  by  whom  laws  happen  to  be  laid 
down,  act  in  the  same  way  as  that  true  (statesman),  should 


THE  STATESMAN  63 

they  endeavor  to  do  to  the  utmost  of  their  power  con- 
trary to  them  (the  laws)  what  is  something  different  and 
better  ? 

Sac.  jim. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  If  then  they  should  without  knowledge  act  in 
this  manner,  would  they  not  attempt  to  imitate  what  is 
true  ?  and  yet  they  would  imitate  all  badly ;  but  if  with 
art,  this  is  no  longer  an  imitation,  but  is  the  very  truth 
itself. 

Soc.  jiin. — Altogether  so. 

Guest.  —  And  yet  it  was  before  laid  down  as  a  thing 
acknowledged  by  us,  that  the  mob  is  incapable  of  receiv- 
ing any  art  whatever. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  was  so  laid  down. 

Guest. —  If  then  there  is  a  certain  kingly  art,  the  mob 
of  the  rich,  and  the  whole  of  the  people,  could  never 
receive  this  science  of  the  statesman. 

Soc.  jun.  —  For  how  can  they? 

Guest. —  It  is  requisite  then,  as  it  seems,  that  such-like 
polities,  if  they  are  about  to  imitate  correctly,  to  the  best 
of  their  power,  the  true  polity  under  a  single  person,  ruling 
with  art,  must  never,  the  laws  having  been  laid  down  by 
them,  do  anything  contrary  to  the  written  statutes  and 
customs  of  the  country. 

Soc.  jun.  —  You  speak  most  beautifully. 

Guest. — When  therefore  the  rich  imitate  this  polity,  we 
then  denominate  such  a  polity  an  aristocracy;  but  when 
they  give  no  thought  to  the  laws,  an  oligarchy. 

Soc  jun. —  So  it  nearly  seems. 

Guest. — And  again,  when  one  man  rules  according  to 
the  laws,  imitating  the  person  indued  with  science,  we 
call  him  a  king,  not  distinguishing  by  name  the  person 
ruling  alone  with  science,  or  with  opinion  according  to 
the  laws. 

Soc.  jun. — We  nearly  appear  to  do  so. 

Guest. —  If  then  a  person  possessing  in  reality  science 
rules  alone,  he  is  called  altogether  by  the  same  name,  a 
king,  and  no  other  will  be  mentioned  in  addition  through 
which  the  five  names  of  the  polities  just  now  mentioned 
become  only  one. 

Soc.  jun. —  So  it  appears. 


64 


THE  STATESMAN 


Guest. —  But  when  one  man  rules  neither  according  to 
the  laws  nor  the  customs  of  the  country,  but  pretends, 
as  the  person  possessing  science,  that  the  best  is  to  be 
done,  contrary  to  the  written  statutes,  and  there  exist  a 
certain  desire  and  ignorance  as  the  leaders  of  this  imitation, 
must  we  not  call  each  man  of  this  kind  a  tyrant  ? 

[40.]  Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  Thus  then  we  say  has  been  produced  a  tyrant, 
a  king,  an  oligarchy,  an  aristocracy,  and  a  democracy, 
from  mankind  indignantly  bearing  with  such  a  single 
monarch,  and  not  believing  that  any  one  would  ever  be 
worthy  of  such  an  oflfice,  so  as  to  be  both  willing  and 
able  to  rule  with  virtue  and  science,  and  to  distribute 
properly  to  all  persons  things  just  and  holy ;  but  ( disposed ) 
to  maim,  and  kill,  and  maltreat*  whomsoever  he  might 
wish:  yet,  if  such  a  person  should  arise,  as  we  have 
mentioned,  he  would  be  beloved  and  live  at  home  happily, 
gliding  throughout,  like  a  pilot,  alone  a  polity  accurately 
correct. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  But  now,  as  we  truly  say,  since  there  is  no 
such  king  produced  in  states,  as  is  produced  by  nature 
in  a  swarm  of  bees,  excelling  straightway  alone  in  body 
and  soul,  we  must,  as  it  seems,  come  together  and  write 
down  statutes,  treading  in  the  footsteps  of  a  polity  the 
most  true. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  nearly  appears  so. 

Guest.  —  And  do  we  wonder  then,  Socrates,  that  in 
such-like  polities  evils,  such  as  do  happen,  and  will  hap- 
pen, are  produced,  when  the  foundation  placed  under 
them  (exists)  by  statutes  and  customs,  and  not  with  the 
foundation  of  science,  which  performs  its  action  in  a 
different  way  than  what  a  polity  does,  which,  making  use 
of  imprudence,  will  be  evident  to  every  one,  that  it  will 
destroy  everything  produced  by  that  (imprudence).  Or 
ought  we  not  to  wonder  rather  at  this,  how  strong  a  thing  a 
city  naturally  is?    For,  though  cities  have  for  time  without 

*  Here  the  maltreating,  after  killing,  has  reference  to  the  con- 
duct pursued  by  tyrants  to  the  dead  bodies  of  their  political  ene- 
mies, as  shown  in  the  case  of  Ajax  by  the  Atridae,  and  in  that 
of  Polynices  by  Creon. 


THE  STATESMAN 


65 


end  been  suffering-  thus,  yet  some  of  them  are  still 
remaining,  and  are  not  overturned.  Many,  however, 
sometimes,  like  sinking  vessels,  are  perishing-,  have  per- 
ished, and  will  perish,  through  the  incorrect  conduct  of 
the  pilot  and  sailors,*  who,  having-  obtained  the  greatest 
ignorance  respecting  the  greatest  concerns,  do  still, 
although  they  know  nothing  about  state  affairs,  think 
they  have  obtained  this  knowledge  the  most  clearly 
of  all. 

[41.]  Soc.  jun. —  Most  true. 

Guest. —  Which  then  of  these  incorrect  polities,  where 
all  are  full  of  difficulties,  is  the  least  difficult  to  live  in, 
and  which  the  most  oppressive,  it  is  meet  for  las  to  look 
into  a  little;  although  it  is  what  is  called  a  by-deed  as 
regards  our  present  inquiry;  yet,  perhaps,  on  the  whole, 
we  all  of  us  do  all  things  for  the  sake  of  a  thing  of  this 
kind. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  meet.    How  not? 

Guest.  —  Of  three  things  then,  say  that  the  same  is  re- 
markably difficult,  and  at  the  same  time  most  easy. 
Soc.  jun. —  How  say  you  ? 

Guest.  —  Not  otherwise  than,  as  I  said  before,  that  a 
monarchy,  the  government  of  a  few,  and  of  many,  are 
those  three  polities  mentioned  by  us  at  the  commencement 
of  the  discourse,  which  has  now  flowed  upon  us. 

Soc.  jun.  —  They  were. 

Guest. — Bisecting  then  each  of  these,  we  shall  produce 
six,  separating  from  these  the  correct  polity,  as  a  seventh. 
Soc.  jun. —  How  so? 

Guest.  Out  of  monarchy  there  came,  we  said,  the  regal 
and  the  tyrannic;  and  out  of  that  (composed)  not  of  the 
many,  the  well-omened  aristocracy  and  oligarchy.  But 
out  of  that  (composed)  of  the  many,  we  then  laid  it  down 
under  the  name  of  a  simple  democracy;  but  we  must 
now  lay  it  down  as  two-fold. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  so?  And  after  what  manner  do  we 
make  this  division  ? 

Guest.  —  Not  at  all  different  from  the  others;  even  al- 
though the  name  of  this  is  now  two-fold.    But  to  govern 

*  By  sailors  are  meant  those  who  are  sailing  in  the  vessel  of  the 
State. 


66 


THE  STATESMAN 


according  to  the  laws,  and  contrary  to  them,  is  common 
both  to  this  and  the  rest. 
Soc.  jun. —  It  is  so. 

Guest. —  Then  indeed,  when  we  were  seeking  a  correct 
polity,  this  bisection  was  of  no  use,  as  we  have  shown 
above;  but  since  we  have  separated  it  from  the  others, 
and  have  considered  the  others  as  necessary,  the  being 
contrary  or  according  to  law  causes  a  bisection  in  each  of 
these. 

Soc.  jun.  —  So  it  appears  from  what  has  now  been  said. 

Guest.  —  A  monarchy  then,  yoked  to  correct  writings, 
which  we  call  laws,  is  the  best  of  all  the  six  polities; 
but  when  it  is  without  law,  it  is  grievous,  and  most 
burdensome  to  live  under. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  nearly  appears  so. 

Guest. —  But  the  polity  of  the  not-many  we  have  con- 
sidered as  a  medium  between  both,  as  a  few  is  a  medium 
between  one  and  many,  but  on  the  other  hand,  the  polity 
of  the  many,  as  being  weak  in  all  things,  and  unable, 
as  compared  with  the  others,  to  do  any  thing  great, 
either  for  good  or  evil,  through  the  offices  in  this  polity 
being  divided  into  small  parts  among  many.  Hence, 
of  all  the  polities  acting  according  to  law,  this  is  the 
worst,  but  the  best  of  all  such  as  act  contrary  to  law. 
And  where  all  are  intemperate,  it  is  the  best  to  live  in 
a  democracy;  but  where  all  are  temperate,  this  polity  is 
the  worst  to  live  in.  In  the  first  polity  is  the  first  and 
best  condition  (of  life),  with  the  exception  of  the  seventh; 
for  we  must  separate  this  from  all  the  other  polities,  as 
a  god  from  men. 

Soc.  jun.  —  These  things  appear  thus  to  be  produced 
and  happen;  and  that  must  be  done,  which  you  mention. 

Guest. —  Ought  we  not  then,  to  take  away  the  sharers 
in  all  these  polities,  with  the  exception  of  the  scientific 
one,  as  being  not  truly  statesman-like  but  seditious-like; 
and  as  presiding  over  the  greatest  resemblances,  and 
being  such  themselves;  and,  as  they  are  the  greatest 
mimics  and  enchanters,  to  be  called  too,  the  greatest 
sophists  of  sophists  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  This  appellation  seems  nearly  to  be  retorted 
most  correctly  on  those  called  statesmen. 


THE  STATESMAN 


6? 


Guest. —  Be  it  so.  This  indeed  is,  as  it  were,  a  drama 
for  us;  just  as  it  was  lately  said,  that  wc  saw  a  certain 
dancing-troop  of  Centaurs  and  Satyrs,  which  was  to  be 
separated  from  the  statesman's  art;  and  now  this  separa- 
tion has  been  with  so  much  difficulty  effected. 

Soc.  Jim. —  So  it  appears. 

Guest. —  But  another  thing  remains,  still  more  difficult 
than  this,  through  its  being  more  allied  to  the  kingly 
genus,  and  at  the  same  time  more  difficult  to  understand. 
And  we  appear  to  me  to  be  affected  in  a  manner 
similar  to  those  that  wash  gold. 

Soc.  j'un. —  How  so  ? 

Guest.  —  Those  workmen  first  of  all  separate  earth, 
stones,  and  many  other  things;  but  after  this  there  are 
left  substances,  allied  to  gold,  mixed  together  and  of  value, 
and  to  be  separated  only  by  fire,  such  as  brass  and  silver, 
and  sometimes  a  diamond;  which  being  with  difficulty 
separated  by  the  experiments  of  fusion  (in  the  crucible), 
suffer  us  to  see  itself  by  itself  that  which  is  called  pure 
gold. 

Soc.  fun.  —  It  is  said  that  such  things  are  so  done. 

[42.]  Guest.  —  After  the  same  manner  then  it  seems  that 
things  different  from,  and  such  as  are  foreign  and  not 
friendly  to,  the  statesman's  science,  have  been  separated 
by  us;  but  there  have  been  left  such  as  are  of  value  and 
allied  to  it.  Now  of  these  are  the  military  and  judicial 
arts,  and  that  oratory,  which  has  a  share  of  the  kingly 
science,  and  does,  by  persuading  men  to  do  justice,  con- 
jointly regulate  affairs  in  states ;  by  separating  ( all )  of 
which  in  a  certain  manner,  most  easily  will  a  person  show 
naked  and  alone  by  itself  the  character  of  which  we  are 
now  in  search. 

Soc.j'un. —  It  is  evident  that  we  should  endeavor  to  do 
this  in  some  way. 

Guest. —  As  far  as  experiment  goes,  it  will  be  evident. 
But  let  us  endeavor  to  show  it  by  means  of  music.  Tell 
me,  then — 

Soc.  jun. —  What  ? 

Guest.  —  Have  we  any  teaching  of  music,  and  univer- 
sally of  the  sciences,  relating  to  handicraft  trades  ? 
Soc.  j'mt.  —  We  have. 


68 


THE  STATESMAN 


Guest  —  But  what,  shall  we  say  that  there  is  this  too, 
a  certain  science  respecting  those  very  things,  (which 
teaches  us)  whether  we  ought  to  learn  any  one  of  them 
whatever  or  not  ?    Or  how  shall  we  say  ? 

Soc.  jun. — We  will  say  that  there  is. 

— Shall  we  not  then  confess,  that  this  is  different 
from  the  others  ? 

Soc.  jiin.  —  Yes. 

Guest. —  But  whether  must  we  say  that  not  one  of  them 
ought  to  rule  over  the  other  ?  or  the  others  over  this  ? 
or  that  this,  as  a  guardian,  ought  to  rule  over  all  the 
others  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  That  this  science  (ought  to  rule)  over  those; 
( which  teaches )  whether  it  is  requisite  to  learn,  or  not. 

Guest.  —  You  tell  us  then  that  it  ought  to  rule  over 
both  the  taught  and  the  teaching. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Very  much  so. 

Guest. — And  that  the  science  (which  decides)  whether 
it  is  requisite  to  persuade  or  not,  should  rule  over  that 
which  is  able  to  persuade  ? 

Soc.  jun, —  How  not  ? 

Guest. —  To  what  science  then  shall  we  attribute  that, 
which  persuades  the  multitude  and  the  crowd,  through 
fable-talking,  but  not  through  teaching  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  I  think  it  is  evident  that  this  is  to  be  attrib- 
uted to  the  science  of  the  orator. 

Guest. —  But  on  what  science,  on  the  other  hand,  shall 
we  impose  this,  ( to  decide )  whether  it  is  meet  to  do  any 
thing  whatever  to  any  persons  by  persuasion,  or  violence, 
or  to  abstain  entirely. 

Soc.  jun. — To  that,  which  rules  over  the  arts  of  per- 
suasion and  discourse. 

Guest. — But  this,  as  I  think,  will  not  be  any  other 
than  the  power  of  the  statesman. 

Soc.juyi. —  You  have  spoken  most  beautifully. 

Guest. — Thus  then  the  science  of  the  orator  appears  to 
have  been  very  rapidly  separated  from  that  of  the  states- 
man, as  being  another  species,   but  subservient  to  this. 

Soc.  jun. — Yes. 

[43.]  Guest.  —  Eut  what  on  the  other  hand  must  we  con- 
ceive respecting  this  power  ? 


THE  STATESMAN 


69 


Soc.  j'lcn.  —  What  power  ? 

Guest. —  (Respecting)  that,  by  which  we  are  to  war  with 
each  of  those  against  whom  we  may  have  chosen  to  war. 
Whether  shall  we  say  that  this  power  is  without  art  or 
with  art  ? 

Soc.jun. — And  how  can  we  conceive  that  power  to  be 
withoiit  art,  which  the  general's  art  and  all  warlike  opera- 
tions put  into  practice  ? 

Guest. —  But  must  we  consider  that  power,  which  is 
able  and  skillful  in  deliberating,  whether  we  ought  to 
engage  in  war,  or  separate  peaceably,  as  different  from 
this,  or  the  same  with  it  ? 

Soc.jun. — To  those  following  the  preceding  (reasoning) 
it  is  of  necessity  different. 

Guest. —  Shall  we  not,  then,  assert  that  this  (the  art  of 
deliberation)  rules  over  that  (which  carries  on  war),  if 
we  understand  in  a  manner  similar  to  what  has  been 
advanced  before  ? 

Soc.jun. — So  I  say. 

Guest. — What  power  then  shall  we  endeavor  to  show  as 
the  mistress  of  the  whole  art  of  war,  so  terrible  and 
mighty,  except  the  truly  kingly  science  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  None  other. 

Guest. — We  must  not  then  lay  down  the  science  of 
generalship  as  that  of  the  statesman,  of  which  the  former 
is  the  ministering  assistant. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  not  reasonable. 

Guest. —  But  come,  let  us  contemplate  the  power  of 
judges,  who  judge  rightly. 
Soc.  jun. —  By  all  means. 

Guest. —  Is  it  then  capable  of  doing  anything  more  than 
merely  judging  respecting  compacts,  when,  having  re- 
ceived from  a  king  the  lawgiver,  whatever  has  been  laid 
down  as  legal,  and  looking  both  to  those,  and  to  what 
has  been  ordained  to  be  just  and  unjust,  it  exhibits  its 
own  peculiar  virtue,  of  never  being  overcome  by  certain 
bribes,  or  fear,  or  pity,  or  any  other  hatred,  or  love,  so 
as  to  be  willing  to  settle  mutual  accusations  contrary  to 
the  ordonnance  of  the  legislator. 

Soc.  jun. — The  employment  of  this  power  is  nearly 
nothing  else  than  what  you  have  mentioned. 


70 


THE  STATESMAN 


Guest.  —  We  find,  then,  that  the  strength  of  judges  is 
not  kingly,  but  the  guardianship  of  the  laws,  and  minis- 
tering to  the  kingly  science. 

Soc.  j'un. —  It  appears  so. 

Guest. —  This  also  must  be  understood  by  him,  who 
looks  into  all  the  aforesaid  sciences,  that  the  statesman's 
science  has  not  appeared  to  be  one  of  them.  For  it  is 
not  meet  for  the  truly  kingly  science  to  act  itself,  but  to 
rule  over  those  able  to  act ;  since  it  knows  that  the  com- 
mencement and  progress  of  things  of  the  greatest  conse- 
quence in  states  depends  on  opportunity  and  the  want  of 
it;  but  it  is  the  province  of  the  other  sciences  to  do  as 
they  are  ordered. 

Soc.  j'un.  —  Right. 

Guest. —  Hence,  since  the  sciences  which  we  have  just 
now  discussed,  neither  rule  over  each  other  nor  them- 
selves, but  that  each  is  occupied  with  a  certain  proper 
employment  of  its  own,  they  have  justly  obtained  ac- 
cording to  the  peculiarity  of  their  actions  a  peculiar 
name. 

Soc.  j'un. —  So  they  seem. 

Guest. —  But  we,  having  rightly  comprehended  its  power 
under  an  appellation  in  common,  should,  it  seems,  most 
justly  call  that  the  science  of  the  statesman,  which  rules 
over  all  these  and  takes  care  of  the  laws,  and  of  every- 
thing relating  to  the  state,  and  weaves  all  things  together 
most  correctly. 

Soc.  ju7i. —  Entirely  so. 

[44.]  Guest. — Are  we  then  willing  to  go  through  this 
science  at  present,  according  to  the  pattern  of  the  weav- 
ing art,  since  all  the  genera  pertaining  to  a  state  have 
become  manifest  to  us  ? 

Soc.  j'un. — And  very  much  so. 

Guest.  —  We  must  then,  as  it  seems,  define  what  is  the 
kingly  entwining,  and  what,  after  entwining,  is  the  web 
it  produces  for  us. 

Soc.  j'un. — It  is  evident. 

Guest. —  It  has  become  necessary  as  it  appears,  to  show 
forth  a  thing  really  difficult. 

Soc.  jun.  —  It  must,  however,  be  told  by  all  means. 
Guest. —  For  that  a  part  of  virtue  differs  in  a  certain 


THE  STATESMAN 


7' 


manner  from  a  species  of  virtue,  is  a  point  that  may  be 
very  easily  attacked  by  those,  who  contend  in  discourses 
against  the  opinions  of  the  many. 

Soc.  jun. —  I  do  not  tmderstand  you. 

Guest. —  (Think)  again  in  this  way.  For  I  suppose  you 
consider  fortitude  to  be  one  part  of  virtue. 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  And  that  temperance  is  different  indeed  from 
fortitude,  but  that  this  is  also  a  part  of  what  that  is 
likewise. 

Soc.  jun. — Yes. 

Guest. — On  these  points  then  we  must  dare  to  unfold 
a  certain  marvelous  discourse. 
Soc.  jun.  —  Of  what  kind? 

Guest. —  That  they  have  after  a  certain  manner  very 
great!)''  an  enmity  with  each  other,  and  are  of  an  oppo- 
site faction  in  many  of  the  things  that  exist. 

Soc.  ju7i. —  How  say  you? 

Guest.  —  An  assertion  by  no  means  usual.    For  all  the 
parts  of  virtue  are  said  to  be  friendly  to  each  other. 
Soc.  jun.  —  Yes. 

Guest. —  Let  us  consider  then,  applying  very  closely 
our  mind,  whether  this  is  so  without  exception,  or  whether 
rather  any  part  of  them  differs  from  their  kindred. 

Soc.  jun. —  Inform  me  how  we  are  to  consider. 

Guest. —  In  all  such  things  as  we  call  beautiful,  it  is 
proper  to  investigate,  but  we  refer  them  to  two  species 
contrary  to  each  other. 

Soc.  jun. — ^  Speak  more  clearly. 

Guest. —  Of  acuteness  then  and  swiftness,  either  in  bodies 
or  mind,  or  of  the  throwing  out  the  voice,  when  such  things 
exist  themselves  or  in  their  resemblances,  such  as  music 
and  painting  by  imitating  exhibit,  have  you  ever  been  a 
praiser  yourself,  or,  being  not  present,  have  you  heard 
another  person  praising  any  one  of  these  things  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  Do  you,  likewise,  remember  after  what  manner 
they  do  this  in  each  of  these  cases  ? 
Soc.  jun. —  By  no  means. 

Guest.  —  Shall  I  then  be  able  to  point  out  to  you  through 
words,  as  I  have  it  in  my  mind  ? 


72 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun. —  Why  not? 

Guest. —  You  seem  to  think  a  thing  of  this  kind  easy. 
Let  us  consider  it  then  in  general  somewhat  contrary. 
For  in  many  actions,  and  oftentimes  on  each  occa- 
sion, when  we  admire  the  swiftness,  vehemence,  and 
acuteness  of  thought,  body  or  voice,  we  praise  them,  and 
at  the  same  time  employ  one  of  the  appellations  of  manli- 
ness. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  so? 

Guest. —  We  say  it  is  acute  and  manly,  swift  and  manly, 
and  in  a  similar  manner  vehement;  and  universally,  by 
applying  the  name  which  I  say  is  common  to  all  these  nat- 
ural qualities,  we  praise  them. 

Soc.  jun. —  Yes. 

Guest. —  But  what,  have  we  not  often  praised  in  many 
actions  the  species  of  quiet  production  ? 
Soc.  jun. — And  very  much  so. 

Guest.  —  Do  we  not  then,  in  saying  the  contrary  to  what 
(we  did)  about  them  say  this? 
Soc.  jun. —  How  so  ? 

Guest. — As  we  speak  on  each  occasion  of  things  done 
quietly  and  moderately  as  regards  the  mind,  and  admire 
them;  and  as  regards  actions,  slowly  and  softly;  and 
further  as  respects  voice,  smoothly  and  gravely,  and  of  all 
rhythmical  movement,  and  the  whole  of  music  which 
makes  use  of  slowness  opportunely,  do  we  not  assign  to  all 
these  the  appellation  of  the  moderate,  and  not  of  the 
manly  ? 

Soc.  jun.  —  Most  assuredly. 

Guest. —  But  when,  on  the  other  hand,  both  these 
take  place  unseasonabl)'-,  we  then  in  turn  blame  each 
of  them  by  their  names,  distributing  (them)  back  to 
their  opposites. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  so? 

Guest.  —  By  calling  things  that  are  and  seem  (to  be) 
more  acute,  and  quick,  and  harsh  than  is  seasonable, 
by  the  names  of  insolent  and  mad;  but  those  that  are 
more  slow  and  soft,  (by  the  names  of)  timid  and 
slothful.  And  for  the  most  part  nearly  we  find  that 
these,  and  the  moderate  and  manly  natures,  having 
like   hostile   species    obtained   by   lot   their  respective 


THE  STATESMAN 


73 


stations  opposite  to  each  other,  never  mingle  together 
in  actions  about  things  of  this  kind;  and  still  further 
we  shall  see,  if  we  pursue  (the  inquiry)  diligently, 
that  they  who  possess  these  in  their  souls,  are  at  vari- 
ance with  each  other. 

[45.]  Soc.  jun.  —  Where  do  you  say? 

Guest. —  In  all  the  points  which  we  have  just  now 
mentioned,  and,  it  is  likely,  in  many  others.  For  I 
think  that,  on  account  of  their  alliance  with  each,  by 
praising  some  things  as  their  own  property,  but  blam- 
ing the  things  of  those  who  differ,  as  being  foreign, 
they  stand  in  great  enmity  with  each  other  and  on 
account  of  many  things. 

Soc.  Jun. — They  nearly  appear  to  do  so. 

Guest. —  This  difference  then  between  these  species 
is  a  kind  of  sport.  But  a  disease  the  most  baneful 
of  all  others  happens  to  states  about  things  of  the 
greatest  consequence. 

Soc.  Jun. —  About  what  things  are  you  speaking? 

Guest. —  About  the  whole  form  of  living,  as  it  is 
reasonable  I  should.  For  they  who  are  pre-eminently 
well-ordered  are  always  prepared  to  live  a  quiet  life, 
themselves  by  themselves,  managing  only  their  own 
concerns,  and  so  associating  with  all  at  home,  and 
being  ready,  in  like  manner,  to  be  at  peace,  after  a 
certain  fashion,  with  foreign  states;  and  through  this 
desire,  more  unseasonable  than  is  fitting,  when  they 
are  doing  that  which  they  wish,  they  become  uncon- 
sciously unwarlike,  and  affect  the  young  men  m  a 
similar  manner,  and  become  ever  the  prey  of  parties 
attacking;  of  whom  in  not  many  years  themselves,  their 
children,  and  the  whole  city,  often  unconsciously,  in- 
stead of  being  free,  become  the  slaves. 

Soc.  Jun. —  You  speak  of  a  severe  and  terrible  suffering. 

Guest. —  But  what  are  they,  who  incline  more  to  man- 
liness ?  Do  they  not  incite  their  own  cities  ever  to  some 
warfare,  through  a  desire  more  vehement  than  is  becoming 
of  such  a  kind  of  life ;  and  thus  standing  in  hostile  array 
against  many  and  powerful  (nations),  either  entirely  de- 
stroy their  own  country,  or  place  it  in  slavery  under  the 
power  of  their  foes  ? 


74 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jun. — This  too  is  the  case. 

Guest. —  How  then  shall  we  not  say,  that  in  these  cases 
both  these  genera  have  ever  against  each  other  the  great- 
est enmity  and  array  ? 

Soc.  jun. — It  can  never  be  that  we  should  say  no. 

Guest. —  Have  we  not  then  found  out,  what  we  were 
considering  at  the  beginning,  that  certain  parts  of  virtue 
differ  not  a  little  from  each  other  naturally,  and  that 
they  likewise  cause  those,  who  possess  them,  to  do  the 
same  ? 

Soc.  jun. — They  nearly  appear  (to  do  so). 
Guest. —  Let  us  handle  again  this  too. 
[46.]  Soc.  jtin. —  What? 

Gtiest. —  Whether  any  one  of  the  sciences,  that  bring 
things  together,  does  compose  any  act  of  its  works,  al- 
though it  should  be  the  vilest,  willingly  from  things  evil 
and  useful  ?  Or  does  every  science  always  reject  things 
evil  to  the  utmost  of  its  power,  and  receive  such  as  are 
apt  and  useful  ?  and  that  from  these,  both  similar  and 
dissimilar,  it  does,  by  collecting  all  into  one,  fabricate  one 
certain  power  and  form  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  The  stateman's  science,  when  it  really  exists 
according  to  nature,  will  never  willingly  form  a  state  com- 
posed of  good  and  bad  men;  but  it  is  very  evident,  that  it 
will  first  examine  by  means  of  play;  and,  after  the  exam- 
ination, it  will  hand  over  to  such  as  are  able  to  instruct  and 
to  minister  to  this  very  purpose,  itself  commanding  and 
presiding,  just  as  the  weaving  art  presides  over  the  wool 
combers,  and  those  who  prepare  the  rest  of  the  materials 
for  weaving,  and  following  them  up,  gives  its  orders  and 
stands  over  them,  pointing  out  to  each  to  complete  their 
work,  such  as  it  conceives  to  be  fitted  for  its  own  putting 
together. 

Soc.  jun.  —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  In  the  very  same  way  the  kingly  science  appears 
to  me  to  keep  to  itself  the  power  of  the  presiding  art,  and 
not  to  permit  all,  who  instruct  and  rear  up  according  to 
law,  to  practice  aught,  except  what  any  one  would,  by 
working  out  a  manner  suited  to  its  own  temperament, 
effect ;  and  this  alone  it  exhorts  them  to  teach ;  but  those 


THE  STATESMAN 


75 


who  are  unable  to  communicate  a  manner  manly  and  mod- 
erate, and  whatever  else  tends  to  virtue,  and  through  the 
force  of  a  depraved  nature  arc  impelled  to  ungodliness, 
and  insolence,  and  injustice,  it  casts  out,  punishing  them 
with  death  and  exile  and  the  greatest  of  dishonors. 

Soc.  jun. — This  is  said  to  be  the  case. 

Guest. —  But  those  who  wallow  in  ignorance  and  have  a 
very  abject  spirit,  it  yokes  to  the  race  of  slaves. 

Soc.  jun. —  Most  right. 

Guest. — With  respect  to  the  rest,  however,  whose  natures 
meeting  with  instruction  are  sufficient  to  reach  to  what  is 
high-minded,  and  to  receive  through  art  a  commingling 
with  each  other,  of  these  it  considers  such,  as  incline  more 
to  manliness,  to  have  a  firmness  of  conduct  like  the 
strong  thread  in  the  web ;  but  such  (as  incline)  more  to  a 
well-ordered  conduct  (it  considers)  as  making  use  (of  a 
thread)  supple  and  soft,  and  according  to  the  simile  (from 
weaving),  suited  to  a  thinner  stuff;  and  it  endeavors  to 
bind  and  weave  together  the  natures  inclining  in  a  con- 
trary direction  from  each  other  in  some  such  manner  — 

Soc.jicn. —  In  what  manner? 

Guest. —  In  the  first  place,  according  to  the  alliance  hav- 
ing fitted  together  the  eternal  part  of  their  soul  with  a 
divine  bond;  and  after  that  the  divine  (portion)  that  pro- 
duces life  with  human  — 

[47.]  Soc.  Jun. — Why  again  have  you  said  this? 

Guest. — When  an  opinion  really  true  exists  with  firmness 
in  the  soul,  respecting  the  beautiful,  and  just,  and  good, 
and  the  contraries  to  these,  I  say  that  a  god-like  (opinion) 
is  produced  in  a  divine  genus. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  proper  it  should. 

Guest. —  Do  we  not  know  that  it  befits  the  statesman 
and  a  good  legislator  alone  to  be  able,  with  the  discipline 
of  the  kingly  science,  to  effect  this  very  thing  in  those 
who  take  properly  a  share  in  instruction,  and  whom  we 
have  just  now  mentioned  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  This  is  reasonable. 

Guest.  —  But  the  person,  Socrates,  who  cannot  accom- 
plish a  thing  of  this  kind,  we  must  by  no  means  call  by 
the  names  now  sought  for. 

Soc.  jun. —  Most  right. 


76 


THE  STATESMAN 


Guest. — What  then?  Is  not  a  manly  soul,  when  it  lays 
hold  of  a  truth  of  this  kind,  rendered  mild  ?  and  would 
it  not  be  willing  in  the  highest  degree  to  partake  of 
things  just  ?  But  not  sharing  it,  will  it  not  incline  rather 
to  a  certain  savage  nature  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. —  But  what,  does  not  that,  which  is  a  part  of  a 
well-ordered  nature,  after  receiving  these  opinions,  be- 
come truly  moderate  and  prudent,  at  least  in  a  polity  ? 
But  when  it  has  not  partaken  of  the  things  we  are  speak- 
ing of,  does  it  not  obtain  most  justly  some  disgraceful 
reputation  for  stupidity  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  Entirely  so. 

Guest. —  Must  we  not  say  that  this  entwining  and  bind- 
ing together  of  the  evil  with  themselves,  and  of  the  good 
with  the  evil,  can  never  become  stable,  and  that  no 
science  will  ever  employ  it  with  any  serious  care  on  such 
as  these  ? 

Soc.  jun. —  For  how  can  it? 

Guest.  —  But  that  in  those  alone,  who  have  been  born 
with  noble  manners  from  the  first,  and  educated  accord- 
ing to  nature,  this  (bond)  is  naturally  implanted  through 
the  laws:  and  for  these  too  there  is  a  remedy  through 
art ;  and,  as  we  said  before,  that  this  is  the  more  divine 
bond  of  the  parts  of  virtue  which  are  naturally  dissimilar, 
and  tending  to  contraries. 

Soc.  jun. —  Most  true. 

Guest. —  Since  then  this  divine  bond  exists,  there  is 
scarcely  any  difficulty  in  either  understanding  the  other 
bonds  which  are  human,  or  for  a  person  understanding 
to  bring  them  to  a  completion. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  so  ?    And  what  are  these  bonds  ? 

Guest. — Those  of  intermarriages  and  of  a  communion 
of  children,  and  those  relating  to  private  betrothals  and 
espousals.  For  the  majority  are  in  these  matters  not 
properly  bound  together  for  the  purpose  of  begetting 
children. 

Soc.  jtm. —  Why  ? 

Guest. —  The  pursuit  of  wealth  and  power  on  such  occa- 
sions who  would  seriously  blame,  as  being  worthy  of 
notice  ? 


THE  STATESMAN 


77 


Soc.  j'un. —  It  is  not. 

[48.]  Guest. — But  it  will  be  more  just  to  speak  of  those, 
who  make  the  genera  the  object  of  their  care,  should 
they  do  anything  not  according  to  propriety. 

Soc.  jun. —  It  is  at  least  reasonable. 

Guest.  —  They  do  not  indeed  at  all  act  from  right  rea- 
son, but  pursue  a  life  easy  for  the  present;  and  through 
their  hugging  those  similar  to  themselves,  and  of  not 
loving  those  that  are  dissimilar,  they  give  up  themselves 
for  the  greatest  part  to  an  unpleasant  feeling. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  so  ? 

Guest.  —  They  that  are  well-ordered  seek  after  manners 
like  their  own,  and  as  far  as  they  can  marry  from  amongst 
such ;  and  on  the  other  hand  send  away  to  them  their  own 
daughters  to  be  married.  In  the  same  manner  acts  the 
genus  that  delights  in  manliness,  while  going  in  the  pur- 
suit of  its  own  nature ;  whereas  it  is  requisite  for  both  the 
genera  to  do  entirely  the  contrary. 

Soc.  jun. —  How,  and  on  what  account? 

Guest. —  Because  manliness,  having  been  propagated, 
unmixed  for  many  generations  with  a  temperate  nature,  is 
naturally  at  the  beginning  blooming  with  strength,  but 
in  the  end  bursts  out  altogether  into  madness. 

Soc.  jun.  —  It  is  likely. 

Guest. —  On  the  other  hand,  a  soul  very  full  of  modesty, 
and  unmixed  with  manly  boldness,  when  it  has  been  prop- 
agated in  this  manner  for  many  generations,  naturally 
becomes  unseasonably  sluggish,  and  at  last  perfectly  muti- 
lated. 

Soc.  jun. — And  this  also  is  likely  to  happen. 

Guest.  —  I  have  said  that  it  is  not  difficult  to  bind  to- 
gether these  bonds,  the  fact  being  that  both  genera  have 
one  opinion  respecting  things  beautiful  and  good.  For 
this  is  the  one  and  entire  work  of  kingly  weaving,  never 
to  suffer  moderate  manners  to  subsist  apart  from  such 
as  are  manly;  but,  placing  both  in  the  same  shuttle,  to 
bring  out  from  them  a  web  smooth,  and,  as  it  is  said, 
well-woven,  by  means  of  similar  opinions,  and  honors, 
and  dishonors,  and  glories,  and  the  interchange  of  pledges, 
and  to  commit  over  to  these  in  common  the  offices  in 
the  state 


78 


THE  STATESMAN 


Soc.  jiin. —  How  ? 

Guest.  —  Wherever  there  happens  to  be  a  need  of  one 
governor,  by  choosing  a  president  who  possesses  both 
these  (manners) ;  but  where  (there  is  need)  of  more  than 
one,  by  mingling  a  portion  of  both  of  them.  For  the 
manners  of  temperate  governors  are  very  cautious,  just, 
and  conservative;  but  they  are  in  want  of  a  certain  sour- 
ness, and  a  sharp  and  practical  daring. 

Soc.  jun. —  These  things  also  appear  so  to  me. 

Guest. — On  the  other  hand,  manliness  is  with  respect 
to  justice  and  caution  rather  deficient  in  those  virtues; 
but  it  has  pre-eminently  in  actions  a  daring.  It  is  how- 
ever impossible  for  all  things  pertaining  to  states,  both 
of  a  private  and  public  nature,  to  well  exist,  unless  both 
of  these  are  present. 

Soc.  jun. —  How  not? 

Guest. — Let  us  say  then  that  this  is  the  end  of  the 
web  of  the  statesman's  doing,  (so  as  for  him)  to 
weave  with  straight  weaving  the  manners  of  manly  and 
temperate  men ,  when  the  kingly  science  shall  by  bring- 
ing together  their  common  life,  through  a  similarity  in 
sentirhent  and  friendship,  complete  the  most  magnificent 
and  excellent  of  all  webs,  [so  as  to  be  common,]  and  en- 
veloping all  the  rest  in  the  state,  both  slaves  and  free- 
men, shall  hold  them  together  by  this  texture,  and,  as 
far  as  it  is  fitting  for  a  state  to  become  prosperous,  shall 
rule  and  preside  over  it,  deficient  in  that  point  not  one  jot. 

Soc.  Jun.  —  You  have  brought,  O  guest,  most  beautifully, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  characters  of  the  king  and  states- 
man to  a  finish. 


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